daily i see you seeing me. peeking at me around the corner. telling me to sleep heavier and deeper. asking me to just slip and fall on that fine knife i use to cut chicken. encouraging me to meet you with a smile, death i have thought about you since age five. remember the fire? oh yes i am sure you remember the fire. your first chance to steal me from my family. 

oh death you are such a cunning brotha coming in every shape, size, color, and understanding. i can’t wait to meet you to tell you how i really feel about you. till the, i bid you adieu!


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