Death and Dying

[ChristopherSea]

The last person that liked one of my poems got banned. Many of the others have died nasty deaths. One of them got picked up for stalking. I just got back from the post office where I'm always getting supportive letters from those in the city jail. I don't give them my home address; I have a sister, so that would be foolish.

Interesting

Man, that lobotomy gave you ESP rowens, nice prediction on that banning.

---

Learning how to die is a long course.
If anyone I loved died,
I'd hate them till my dying day;
and beyond if I find there is yet more.

I hate Jesus for dying,
though he died for me.
People I've known, personally,
I will hate more.

I think about dying more and more each night as I get older.
I used to dread others dying;
now I think I might die, too.

Last night I awoke around 3:33am,
it was dark, as one might expect;
I had to piss out all the water I drank
to save me from a hangover this morning.

I've always been alert,
sensible and cautious.

I stepped outside, I pissed;
I looked up to the stars.
No one was around to kill me
or try forcing inside my door
or break my windows

as I lay back down in bed,
in the dark.
I didn't see any ghosts,
though I kept opening my eyes,
not exactly hoping to see
something staring back at me.
But nothing was there anyway.

I used to worry about what my grandmother would think
when I masturbated.
That was when I believed in Heaven.

Now I don't care what she thinks
because she's dead.
And it serves her right.


Another poem of yours that drew me in until the outdoor pissing started. Don't you have indoor plumbing man? You could have skipped it and gone straight to the masturbation, which did tie into your grandmother and your anger over loved ones. Sorry about the loss of your grandmother. I really miss my own...