I was not welcome at Hostel Neonate.
Thankfully, this was not a womb with a view. The proprietor, my young, ***** mother, had attempted a swan dive from the staircase of the two story Beantown walkup.  But she failed to stick the landing and I made my debut a month later.  

August 4, 1967, a cataclysmic requiem for the Haight Ashbury dream.  My birth, like that of so many others,  would come to signify the beginning of the end of the counter culture notion of making love, not war.  Free love was no longer free for girls like my mother, and it would never be free for me.  To be continued...

I think that I am thick
Choosing a state of contentment
In a world of chaos
Chin high, eyes dry
I think that I am thick

I think that I am transparent
Knowing more of pain than of comfort
In a smog of darkness yearning for light
Depriving eyes of vital moisture
I think that I am transparent

Learning of God
Through love and unity
In friendship and fellowship
Faith in wise words and the eyes of the enlightened
Learning of God

Now understanding God
Through the death of my father
In the depths of my mother's sadness
Sadistic peers and malevolent neighbors
Now understanding God

I thought that to be poised was to appear stable
I thought that to have tenacity I must seem strong
Forbearing my feelings you are unable
But for keeping them to myself I was wrong
Crying is better

Sometimes I wonder why they aren't moving
maybe I am not mentally or emotionally prepared for what I can not see yet
maybe what I will see will break me
maybe I am already broken
maybe I am the mountain

with his heart broken
the artist sank inside himself
drowning in fear and self-doubt
once hopeful now defeated
inspiration abandoned him
unable to paint masterpieces
with the poisoned blood
gushing from his fragile heart
that now runs dry

it is always the lovers
the mothers and fathers
the friends and teachers
those closest to you
who plant seeds of doubt
in your mind
who push you away
from your dreams
only the strong (and stubborn)
may follow their heart
while those dearest to them
cast stones at their passion

too many times 
we live to please others 
tailoring our vision
to meet expectations of the crowd 
but we feel a twinge of heaviness 
knowing something is amiss 
that we are prisoners in our life
 
defy the crowd
ignore everyone else
live for yourself and be selfish
let your light shine

be our authentic self
but what does that mean
in a world of bombarded stimuli
constant choices and distraction
follow the road of curiosity
that will lead to our authentic self

the billionaire man
felt more joyous excitement
driving his first used beat up Corolla
than his new shiny red Ferrari
happiness is a matter
of perspective and familiarity

Dearest friend (I've yet to meet),

Who was I kidding?
As if I somehow missed the message --
Childish, my reply sent said:

'shoot! I'm sorry - I must have forgot to hit send'

- I'm the loser who let you wonder for a minute if I meant it (but don't give another thought) a moment longer you'll realize.. I'm lying, I'm a liar (spoiler alert)

I hate to break it to you, today, I really couldn't care less  - yesterday you were all I had left, tomorrow maybe fate will finally bless me, find me dead as I felt inside since I can remember and I'll be at peace with knowing I left you alone.... 
I know, I know.....
We talked for hours, I told you who i really was.. that was just a test - when u got back to me I honestly  almost instantly lost all interest. (Caught a catch 22)
Listen closely (or rather, read carefully) you know I said I love you and that is still the truth (for what its worth, you're welcome) but what you may not know is that i resented you for the fact that you said you love me back (believe me it hurts to say the truth) so my reaction may seem a bit unexpected, know I know I left you with less than you deserve - but this was the only gift I could afford.


I'm unavailable & miserable with the mess I've made for me (trauma tethered me to someone I will never take the leap to try to be me with)

Ask around you'll find my reputation is deplorable - I only ever take (and take and take) 
-- kind of like taxes, most people HATE taxes (no matter how necessary they may be)

I was never meant to be so painfully average - i was born of greatness (trust me, my folks were basicly the best) nurtured my mediocrity on purpose to avoid the pressures of the "life" i should have (could have) led - you say it's not too late - 
Satan's screaming 'she's a liar, you're a waste, take her, keep her here with us'
I look to Christ for sage advice -
'You best just keep your distance, shes a lover but she knows not what she says - she speaks from a place you've never really been welcome - and if she knew everything you took from her, remember, she's only human, and..well.. I think you understand..'
He was right, I know - (Lucifer's a ****, despite the fact he's generally always atleast half right)
You're too beautiful - my reflection is hideous..
I resist all kinship, we could have shared because love hurts so much (or so I've witnessed) 
when goodbyes 
(Even those one might call over due) 
Sneak up and bite us, we are the ****** and cursed the worst and best of us survivors - alike (this is a fact, even if they never ever find common ground sturdy enough to build on, it's there - everyone feels pain from loss -- and the amount of pain between mortals is suprisingly more irrelevant than it is relative)
and we will feel loss, all of us (even the unloved and especially the forgotten)
Someone is always left behind,
I would do anything to outlive all my loved ones (and so I sought immortality) - because I know how it feels to lose them (the gifted, the gone-to-soons) and know this, loneliness scares me a hell of a lot less than transfering pain (undoing all the happiness I meant to spread from my plastic bag filled with good intentions) to some poor soul whose silly enough to feel for me even half of what I felt for them.

I regret this profession I was given - every day it gets harder to convince myself that I'm a good guy, just trying to do my job. Someone has to do it and from what I can tell: 
gods plan is just a rough draft, edited frequently and it's up to no one to really understand it, and yet, everything revolves around it. 
.. and I mean everything. 
Including me,
The Reaper (although, I dislike the title because it insinuates I am absolutely the only one like me.
I often fantasize that I am one of many others, 
maybe they're on other planets or different planes who knows..but I can tell you with absolute certainty that I've yet to meet another like me.)

I guess we all have a purpose - is what I'm trying to say.
Anyway, I should run.. I have a million and some odd funerals to attend this week alone. 


Signed sincerely -
Your friend,
Death

P.s. I will wait for you, there's really no rush for us to meet ♡