Posts Tagged ‘death’

The Cigarette Burn

Posted: December 21, 2014 in Poem
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ashtray

Image courtesy of Mister GC at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

At first, it was just smoke.

But the smoke lingered.

It wouldn’t go away.

Then, it left a mark.

A cigarette burn.

It wasn’t very noticeable.

Just a simple, unassuming thing.

But it was there.

It was noticeable if you looked in the right place.

Then it changed.

It was no longer just a burn, just a mark.

It became a symbol, a reminder.

It started to cause pain.

It was never going away, was it?

The carpet would never be the same.

The owner would never be the same.

The carpet was forever scarred.

The owner was forever scarred.

The owner could heal.

But could not forget.

There would always be a reminder there.

A reminder of a time, of a choice, of a decision.

A decision that started a chain reaction.

The consequences revealed a pattern.

The pattern revealed the future.

Death approached in 7 years.

You will not live through this again.

Refusing Death

Posted: October 13, 2013 in Short Story
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If I can just keep from blacking out, I’ll be alright.  I’m not going to give up that easily.  Maybe I have lost a lot of blood, but does that mean I need to die?  Nope, not me. I don’t see the purpose in it.  Not giving up.  This stubborn soul is going to puppet this body as long as possible.  There’s no giving up. There’s still so much to be done.

I’m going to continue sucking air for a long time to come.  You can’t get rid of me that easily.  Besides, it was a stupid way to die.  If I’m going to die, it is going to be a hero’s death.  I’m going to jump in front of a bus to save a baby or take a bullet for a friend. But that day is not today.  Today, I’m going to keep walking and some doctor is just going to patch me up and put some more blood in me.

I’m protesting death. I’m boycotting the river Styx.  Saint Peter can just keep waiting. I apologize in advance, but I will be standing the devil up for our date.

You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.  That childish instinct that makes you hold your breath till you turn blue or flop on the floor in the middle of the shopping mall and pitch a temper tantrum – that stubbornness is still in me, and I’m using it till I get my way.