A New Kind of Dying

Location

05403
United States

Please hold my hand until it's over.

I think you're obligated

  because you know why I'm afraid.

I had no warning, but I'm not mad.

Just hold my hand for a minute please.

 

The fear washes over me like

the blood from knife wounds,

but the cold will set in shortly,

and I won't feel anything.

This poem is about: 
Me

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