Hey Death!

Hey death, I know who you are
You are the psycho on speed, dressed in black curtains
Fallen from the window sill, crashing into the dirty gardens below
You are the toothless repo man, come to haul off my home
Leave me naked in the hard, plastic dark that only fools claim to know
You are the altruistic martyr, burning your body in the center of town
The sunday newspaper asking you why, the photographers shooting light at you
You are the wonderfully quiet newborn, placing my fingers in your mouth
Trying to feel why I'd need them, why I would want to stay here and touch everything

Hey death, I know what you are
You are the weathered lawn, endlessly standing, swaying
Torched by the sun, beaten by the feet of all those strange features of life
You are the cell-less virus, teaching us how to be still
Locking our joints, wanting us to be patient for a while
You are the beautiful sky, that I can only pretend to see, I cannot feel you
Just let me touch you, I wish not to go through you, I want to know you
You are my hearts true friend, making plans for a visit
Making your journey from some division of reality that rests in the folds of my vision
You are the soft, mellow notes that rise from my piano
That no one cares to hear anymore, but I love to watch you dance

Hey death, I know where you'll be when you come for me
You'll be in the eyes of my friends and family
Encased in translucent tears, their iris' magnified, I can really see their color
You'll be in my lungs, filling them with your poetry
And I will breath slowly, until its time to tell you what I want
You'll be in the air, wandering the dust fields
And straightening the hair of my children, massaging my hands like a lover
You'll be in my head, whispering, your words carried by one thousand voices
I am listening death, you are giving me the chills

Hey death, don't forget to let me speak
Don't forget to let me speak up and out
Don't forget to push my final breath out of me
Don't forget to really take me--I can't dissapoint like that
Hey death, make sure at least one of them remembers me
Wrap twine about their finger, leave notes glued to their desks
Place me in books, something, anything

Hey death, is this it?
I thought there'd at least be a light