Death approaches.
I witness it
close the distance
between us,
accelerating the inevitable
after we failed to secure
our first date.
I’m not the good guy,
I don’t meet the criteria
of bad either.
The unknown settles my fate
as questions
on what will follow linger.
I like the attention,
flattered that the afterlife
finds me attractive.
I entice it with my behavior,
wearing the most revealing
outfit that shows off my best asset.
I shouldn’t be leading it on;
acting like I’m interested
then backing out
at the last minute.
Some may call this selfish,
saying I should be responsible
for any consequences
because I’m the one that did it.
It has an appearance
that’s irresistible,
I found myself
giving in to the persuasion.
Seduced by its mysteries,
my current relationship
is on the verge
of break up,
and secretely,
I’m looking forward
to the occasion.
Poetry 