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Array
(
[sid] => 14084
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => How to Kill the Dead
[time] => 2003-03-11 13:00:00
[hometext] => poem/story that explains itself. nothing special.
[bodytext] => last thursday, around 2 p.m.
i realized that i had stopped breathing i went to take a drag off my cigarette and when i could get nothing i noticed that i wasn't breathing i felt no discomfort no pain or dizziness as a matter of fact, i felt fine so i just went on about my day over the next few days i noticed my skin turning an odd hue of grey i suppose corpses decompose quicker when exposed to air, humidity and such but i still felt fine no discomfort or pain so i just went on about my day this morning, when i woke i lay for a moment just relaxing and welcoming the day and as i rose from the bed, i heard a dry snap when i looked down i saw that my right arm, from the bicep down still lay in the bed i didn't bleed didn't feel any pain or discomfort i felt fine so i just went on about my day as the day wore on more pieces of my body jumped ship, so to speak both ears, my nose one eye fell from the socket swayed for a moment then tumbled to the floor everything i touched seemed to wear away more dead flesh from my fingers and by 3 p.m. my remaining hand bore only stumps but i felt no pain, no discomfort so i just went on about my day but you just called me (had to answer the phone with the one foot that still sports a few toes) and as your voice drifted into the earless hole in the side of my head you told me that you were growing tired of me that our relationship was "falling apart" (funny choice of words) and that you had met someone new so you called to wish me well and say goodbye i don't feel fine anymore i feel more than discomfort i feel more than pain i feel that if my heart were still beating it would stop, and break in two i don't think i can just go on about my day anymore or this life i think that all i can do is submit to the idea that my brain has been feebly feeding me since last thursday the simple fact that i am dead [comments] => 5 [counter] => 152 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Cancer [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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