death

Every time we close our eyes our body tries to linger on.

Lashes brush a thin disguise, a mask that hides our skeleton.

All the gas that fills the room will spell our doom, but it gets us high.

Gasping for the fleeting fumes, clutching heirlooms: our foolish pride.

Look over your shoulder; we're all running from the ground.

Fossilized in hearts of stone, we etch a poem for vanity.

Chisels dull and muses roam, leave us alone - eternally.

Gathered all with wasteful haste 'til face to face with what we dread.

Chasing death and shunning grace, we leave this place without a thread.