Dear Death

I'm becoming sick of the pictures of dead friends on my walls. 
They hang and stare at me; now they are just memories. 

I am immune to Death at this point. 
But a break would be nice. 

Dear Death, 
If you are reading this - 
Please slow down.
Take it easy for a minute. 

Can't you go somewhere else? 
Why do you have to come this way? 
Do you even think about what you're doing? 

I wonder if you have a list. 
Or if it's totally random. 

Do you have a quota to meet? 
Is that why you keep doing this? 

Dear Death, 
Please just go away. 

I know you well and I wish I didn't. 
I wish I’d never even known of your existence. 
You are not welcome here, but yet you still show your face! 

Bold. You are bold, Death.  
You have more audacity than all of us combined, on our worst days. 

You just have to show up, when none of us are ready. 
It must be your favorite thing to do. 

Do you have a team? Is it just you, alone? 

I wonder if there is a warehouse. Or a factory. Do you have weekly meetings to decide who is next? Is there only one of you, Death? 

Tell me, Death; Do you enjoy your job? 
Or are you actually like the rest of us? We, who do work because we need to, and barely get to enjoy any time off?

That's how the system works. Is it the same for you?  
I can imagine, with how frequently you visit us, you rarely get a break. 

Is it true? Does any of this happen by mistake? Do you get to decide when, where, or how? 

Tell me how it works so I can better understand why you feel the need to take the hand of everyone I love and guide them down that road!

The one we are "supposed" to cross only when we are old. 
It never works that way, though. Does it? Hardly ever!
You are as impatient as the changing of the weather. 

Do you have any remorse at all? I really wonder. 
Do you laugh behind the shadows as you steal from us and rob us blind? You are vicious. 

There can be nothing good about what you are doing. 

Have you ever been a victim of yourself? 
Have you ever lost anyone or anything you cared about? 

I wonder. 

Maybe if you did, you could understand. 

Someday, Death, I will face you. And when I do I will have my questions ready. I can only hope you will be prepared to explain. 
There must be a reason for us to experience such grief and pain. 

I'm not in a rush, so you can take your time. 
You can head back the other way, far, far from this place. 

Just leave. Be gone. It is the least you can do! 
And this time, on your way out - don’t take anyone else with you. 

One thought on “Dear Death

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