Die

I want to die someday. I’ve never craved immortality. That fountain of youth- like the tap water in my mother’s old apartment. It never tasted right.
I want to die someday. I want my hands to wither, and I want to see my grandmother when I look at my body. I want to miss her when she’s gone, and find her in the greying stripes of my hair.
I want to die someday. Close these eyes that my mother passed down to me, and see the beautiful colors that exist in my skull one last time, as the neurons fire their final sparks.
I want to die someday. I want my body to lay down in the earth and make love to the dirt until we cannot be distinguished from one another.
I want to die someday. And when the rot melts away, I want clover to bloom above me. I want rabbits to find nourishment that began in my bones. I want pieces of me to go to the worms and the deer and the crows.
I want to die someday. So that I finally touch parts of the world that my living body can only dream of.
I don’t want to live forever. A slice of cake is more delicious than the nauseation from trying to eat an entire pan.
I do not long for a vampires mouth across my neck or some magical witches spell to extend my life. It would be too much.
I long for death to kiss me until I am breathless. To gather me in his arms and tell me I did well in my little blip of an existence.
I want to die someday. And whatever is left of me, I hope it gives a finite life to another, who will relish their first breath and their last, with the gratitude of knowing that it was beautiful to ever exist at all.