DEATH DAY

Why am I still looking back to when I was just a body when I know this time-traveling soul? I open my hands, and I follow that voice that's whispering that dying was just not in your cards that day it is our choice. We have the final say.

I keep having those damn questions, but I will never have the answers until I'm six feet underground with the God's Angels sound saying now we your strip pole dancers.

My heart is beating out of my chest, and my palms are wet from sweat. I want to close my eyes to rest, but the screen of my dreams is running a test pattern.

I remember the day that I died like it was yesterday. I still see those colors that ran right through me. I still recall all the people I saw and their words. They said you were not meant to stay. It was all just a temporary visit, and after that, from a short slumber, I awoke.

Yes, I'm alive and free, yet I want to celebrate my death day before it is too late. No, I don't want any cake, balloons, or gifts, for the air I breathe is all I need