Death-

I think about you a lot more than I should. You have stolen so many pieces of my heart away and left me in perpetual mourning. You linger in the front lobe of my brain and in every turn I near, there you are. You haunt me and I cannot live for the needle of worry you have straight lined into my veins.

I remember when you first came. It was my uncle Lester, and I stood about three feet tall and listened to siring guns as they lowered him into the ground. I felt you standing behind me and you were so cold. I didn’t give you any tears that day. You were a stranger, odd and distant.

You came back for my uncle Lowell, and then two of my grandpa’s and I got to know you a little better and tears came but, they remained few until…

You came back like a lion’s roar, rumbling my whole existence, demanding I take notice of you and I did. You took her. My sweet grandma, the one who held me all the times you came before. Now, there I was, holding her hand while you crept into the room and began to slowly pull her from my grip. It was then I realized, you were never going to leave me alone and every time you return, you will make sure that it hurts a little more each time and you have done so accordingly.

You came and stole Uncle Greg while he slept. Why? Why couldn’t you just let us say goodbye? You didn’t even call ahead this time! I hate you for that, your cruelty is unforgiving and now, just before Christmas, when children are supposed to be happy and grand-kids are wishing for snow, you come in like a blizzard and snatch him away during what should be the merriest of seasons and forever taint this time of year for everyone who loved him. He was my father, a grand father and needed. Why must you be so cold?

I know now, you are inevitable. I know that I will cry again. I know that, you will one day come for me too and this is all that I think of, everyday, every minute, every second. I constantly await your return when I want to cast you like a stone into the deep but,

I am the one drowning instead.

(Dear Death is published in my collection: Jagged Little Pieces)

*Read more of my diary and learn how you can create your own here.

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