everyone-accept-death

This isn’t a real fear
but sometimes
I think I’m dying, a little bit

Not like drop-dead-in-the-street dying
or even bed-ridden-hospital-battle-with-disease dying
more like a slow walk, slowing to a crawl
so gradual that no one even knows
until everyone knows
and one day you just don’t come into work
and no one is surprised
they just say, “yeah he should have run more
or gone to the gym
or joined crossfit
I saw it happen to another guy, once.”
and then they come get my body from my bed
and I’m all shriveled and have old man fingers
and then the roommate and the cat go through my stuff.
“Who wants this stupid hat?” she says.

Anyway, that’s the fear.
I say it’s not real
because it all exists in my head
and I won’t really accept death
How can I accept death, really?
Did I accept life?
I feel like I haven’t had a choice either way

Of course, I’m all about making the best of it
Life is a gift,
and if you’re lucky enough to be sitting somewhere
at a desk or on a bus or wherever
then you should be pretty excited about this incredible opportunity.
You really should.
But that doesn’t mean we ever really accept death, does it?

Hypothetical:
If I’m talking to someone on the phone
and you ask me to hold your super heavy grocery bags
and I’m not thinking, but my hand goes up because I’m making
an important point
and you put the bag over my wrist
Have I accepted the bag of groceries?

Sometimes
I think that’s what death is like
you’re somewhere, distracted, probably on the phone
or doing work, or traveling, or looking the wrong way
and then someone puts a big heavy bag of groceries over your
wrist
it pulls you right down to the ground
and you can’t really get it off.

I don’t know what else to say really, but here’s some advice
Don’t let it drag you down
But also, don’t leave the groceries out
Put them away, carefully, until you’re all done.
You’ll be sorry if the milk goes sour
or the eggs begin to rot.