Death is a pubescent boy.

Sticky, smelly, unwanted

Grimy fingernails digging into pockets for loose change and then begging 

you for your loose change

Skinned knees, baggy shorts, and loose socks

Death enjoys letting everything hang

Upside down on the monkey bars until his face turns a putrid purple and he

pees his pants 

His first love is his first relationship 

A quick romance, making out under bleachers, messy kind of couple

Clammy hands clasp together melt into one but 

she doesn’t let go

Death’s only ever eaten 

just one corner of the cake 

Stuffing too much at once, he chokes and the crumbs go flying 

He’s only ever cut 

the corners running the mile because he likes to lie

Disguising himself as every rumor 

He finds pleasure in being, 

in being a human being

in evolving into the 

evolution of

an animal that breathes down her neck just to watch the hair 

fly up 

Falling into ruins 

-crashing 

-burning 

-everything goes 

So

He tears off his face, flesh softer than he thought

exploding into red, orange, yellow, he spits

a fat wad onto the ground and suddenly everything means nothing

For he is starting to loose

(change)

Deja vu has never looked so vivid, so young, so desperate

Washes his hands three times

In the sync of her heartbeat

She is a rock music lover that bangs her head to the wrong parts, 

sings not the lyrics but the drums 

Says that the best kind of rhythm is the kind without meaning 

The uterus is a frowny face with teeth 

Pink, supple, sad

Says any woman 

Death is strong and fertile, she is ready to make a living in this barren land

He grows a beard, a man now with fat shins and a gun in his pocket and

She convinces him to take everything with a grain of salt, he’s full of too much 

It’s unloaded he tells her, a toothy grin adorns his boy.ish face

The pubescent boy. 

shoots his shot