Poems n' Stuff

What death feels like

I cant seem to explain to people how I feel most of my days, so I say I feel like death.

It gets misconstrued a lot, they think I'm saying that I want to die, but no, I feel like death.

Death feels like stiff limbs and cold fingers, it feels like cracking, peeling skin and a broken spine. My dead body has been reanimated, and now I carry dead weight around, only to die again the next day.

Death tastes like rot and old saliva, like clenched teeth and dried blood stuck between yellow teeth. old air that is half dust and half carbon, it tastes like poison.

Death looks like black, sunken eyes and chapped lips, it looks like the final twitches after a traumatic death, and open eyes staring at nothing. It looks like scratches and welts from a struggle, and unwashed hair that hangs over glassy eyes

Death sounds like choking as I gasp for breath, having it stolen away by my own lungs. It sounds like ruined vocal chords as an alien laugh rips through them. it sounds like cracking wheezes of pain as I move ever so slightly.

Death smells like weeks old laundry that has piled up, and old containers that have molded over. Cups and tissues that smell of a downhill battle. it smells like body odor and copper, blood on the carpet that I cant clean up.

I cant possibly sum up how I feel in so many words, the best response is "I feel like death" as I sit in the dark room, my own private grave that I rot away in, as I am forgotten by time, as all dead bodies are.