Death and I were having tea, a little bitch and chat,
when he offered me some cake… “You know I can’t eat that!”
“Don’t you trust me?” Lord death grinned, still proffering the tray.
“You – I trust,” I took a piece, “I guess I’m odd that way.”
He laughed and settled in his chair, “you honour me my dear
but surely there are others, you exaggerate I fear.”
“No,” I sighed, considering, “I’ve issues I suppose.”
“No!” He gasped and shook his head, “don’t tell me you’ve got those!”
“It’s true,” said I, “or so I’m told, I’m needy and don’t trust.
I also have a raft of fears… and oh, I hate to dust…”
Feigning shock, death cocked his head, “and yet you still have friends…?
who by the way speak well of you when they come to their ends.”
I thanked him for that, sobering, and sipped a little tea.
“But tell me child,” he touched my hand, “do you owe this to me?”
“You know how it was,” I said, “my family’s a mess.
With so much sickness – death -around, I learned to doubt I guess.
And my mother, she’s a fan…” (Death chimed in when I said),
“They won’t be with us too much longer, soon they could be dead…!”
“She still says that one all the time!” I slapped him on the knee
while Death convulsed with laughter, ‘Well, she doesn’t work for me!’
“Otherwise, the men I’ve known, said they want love and such
but when I tired to ‘give’ or ‘get’, they claimed I asked too much.
And friends, they said ‘forever’ but most often they have lied
’cause all of them have moved away, and some of them have died.
As for fears, I don’t fear ‘death’, I know you far too well.
It’s living terrifies me, that’s the part that’s hard as hell.”
He sat staring, deathly still, as only Death can do
‘fore sighing, “I am sorry that I’ve brought such pain to you.”
“Oh no!” I gasped, and went to him and climbed up on his knee
“You’re the only one who’s has been there… don’t you see?
And where others say I’m bitter, that I’m morbid, think too much…
you know how I value life, the little moments, and a touch.
You’ve also taught me not to fear the thing that others dread
so I can leave life peacefully…. perhaps in some soft bed…”
Death chuckled and embraced me, “But that’s not the way you’ll go.”
“Shut up,” I rested on his chest, “I’d rather I not know.”