Dead Wait

We drag the corpses

they attached us to

bloated with grease

thru broken streets

and boiling seas

Waiting for the calendar

to catch up to us

so they may pronounce

an official cause and time

of death, despite

the fact that we

were long since deceased

birth is an ending

to former lives

dying is not optional,

dying young is

We could save ourselves

so much ache and pain

we could cleanse the

palate of this distaste

the flavor of failing

haunts every bite I take

I am never full due

to my inability to finish

a full meal

choking would be preferable

to swallowing poisonous

rupturing rapture

then maybe my clock

could tock the glorious

moment where demise prevails

and finally

finally I can stop dragging

bones and dead weight

burdened no longer now that

timeline is voided and

I happily shake hands with 

the Grim Reaper