a death of a past friend makes me think

watching
knowing it has a secret
and on my special day
he
will grab me by the hand and
walk me
to the
"other side"
where?
when"
i can't help myself
thinking about it all
all the death that happens
every day
every night
every where
in between
right now someone
something
an idea
fear
hope
dream
dying
dying
gone


what is it really?
nothingness?
and if so
how?

i do not want to think about it
can't really get my head around it when i do
get in these moods
thinking
hearing deaths breath ever so slightly
i know he's there
always has been
like a distant friend waiting in the dark at the party
waiting for me ready to go home
so she smokes
and watches until my time is up

i am so intrigued about death i ponder it often
i write poems
start conversations
have debates
life after death?
worm food?
blank?


i can't help but think what it must be like to not wake up
not put your shoes on
not eat breakfast and hear the news of the day

what happens?
i don't remember 1969
i wasn't here, that's why

will i somehow know 2062?


black?
white?
silence?
humming?
static?
what!
I will never know
When she comes he will just come
and take my hand and lead me through deaths abyss--

All I can do is wonder and stand on my chair and say,
"Captain my Captain" and scream
"YELP!"