Cold Blood

Not bad, but cold.

Slowing my inner flow.

Disturbance to my inner sanctuary.

Deaths knocking at my door

Simply from visiting a neighbor, I grow cold.

Shivers all up and down my spine.

Cold blood, weakened pulse.

Death isn’t easy, neither does it sound trumpets before pouncing upon us.

Seeing deaths got me turning cold. Stirring my spirit, thinking if I’m ready to leave my home.

Say goodbye to my captured soulful life on earth.

Growing up in America you constantly hear how we’re so blessed And God knows best.

But then I think,”What if death was about to hit me dead in my chest. Disrupting the very air I breath”!

Ugh Hugh.

High I swell

Life is short.

But there’s no short phrase telling me how to prepare for death.

Readying me to see it.

Feel it.

And hear about it passing me by.

Deaths got me feeling cold.

As if its forever close.

A shadow hovering igniting my senses.

Occasionally tapping me on the shoulder and pointing at someone else, causing distress.

Forcing my head and my eyes to see.

Then pointing down at his watch.

I squint and stare , but I cant see the hands telling me the time I’ll drop dead.

Deaths got me feeling cold.

Cold blood to the bone.

Death came around and it got me feeling cold.

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