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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/931860-Dying
by irish
Rated: ASR · Prose · Death · #931860
the voice of a teenager...
Are you really going to care
How you died?
After you're dead?

It doesn't make sense
To worry so much.
I did...
High school, boyfriends, PMS.
College, marriage finances.
Cancer, arthritis.
Anything in whatever
Stage of life I
Daydreamed about.
I worried.

I even thought about dying.
What would it feel like?
When would it happen?
In my naive bubble,
I bet between cancer and old age.
Ironic...
I never thought to put a
Friday night joyride on the ticket.

The ER doctor told my parents
I died instantly.
"No pain," he said.
Pain? What is pain?

Pain is a mere jab in one's flesh.
Agony is ripping through a windshield,
Agony is landing on the asphalt,
Twenty feet away.

I lay for five seconds,
As Time slowly spun
From my reality.
I could almost feel as
My memories dimmed like a
Candle at the bottom of its wax.
A final breath of air,
And the flame wavered into oblivion.
© Copyright 2005 irish (bcain at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/931860-Dying