The Grim Reaper stands at the foot of my bed
antagonizingly.

It just stares.
Straight.
At.
Me.

I was once scared of it’s dark essence and great scythe,
So I never dared look back.
I thought,
Maybe if I didn’t see it,
It would just go away.

It didn’t go away.

The Grim Reaper looms at the foot of my bed
agonizingly.

Staring.
Straight.
At.
Me.

I’m being tortured,
I can’t sleep or live in peace
I don’t know
Why its here,
What it wants from me,
When it would take me away,
Why it can’t just take me already
God, just get this over with and take me already!

…

Despite my cries and pleads,
He stood there.
Unfazed.

I swear, one day I will get up,
Grab His scythe,
And do His job myself.