Time Is Precious
My Dear Death,
I will not go with you. I can not abide your career choice. You are an indiscriminate
collector of souls who leaves behind confusion and pain. Dearest you are too good at what you do. I've touched your hand once. I never saw your face, but you left your mark. My fingers caressed a trail of salty tears streaming down my face.
Please stop whispering my name. I implore you...let me be. I'm in love with the Day. The Day has more to offer: sunshine, rain, and snow. The air I breathe is sweet. The life I live constantly evolves. Even now, I can hear honking car horns and smell adventure in the air.
We will meet again. I am no longer naive. For now, Dear Death, I remain to embrace the day with vitality.
Reluctantly yours (someday),
Your Soul Mate