MY FEAR OF DEATH IN POETRY

(I guess this counts as my first post if better poetry and a drunker rant because I was drunk when I wrote this and I like to think it's pretty good but please share your thoughts and feedback)

I do not scream and yell

I wouldn't dare take up the sound

Women bleed silent tears from their eyes and hold the air in our lungs 

Dare I be peaceful? Content in the death? In the silence that waits far beyond in rest?

But here one might whisper - a quiet plead 

That I must go back 

there is much left for me 

And maybe a tear will fall

and a scream will exit 

At the chance of something more 

And a cold realisation 

That yes, taken too soon and beautiful and young 

I took it all for granted 

Can't go back

Can't run

No point in cursing the sky or you or your name 

because hopefully then my hatred may end at my grave.

- KC.ykw 

(ew it's lowkey cringy but "cringe is the death of art and originality" and I have to keep telling myself that in order to create LOL)