The Reaper has manners and the Leeches have suits


It's not a thought. It's a natural occurrence of life.

If I question Deaths existence, apparently I don't fancy living or so says the leeches.

They are the ones who try to create a panic amongst the obtuse population that surrounds me. Their ill advised theories and need for constant admiration produces poor performances where they recite their lines of self justification, and worth. These gluttonous narrations eclipse any relevance they may have held in my eyes .With each breath they take I know they are all the living dead. Wondering around searching for a purpose to live, most of them believing they have found it.

When death comes knocking, they are proven wrong.

Why must, when death comes knocking on your door, be a saying?

Possibly Death knocks on ones door, but doesn't it depend on where one dies?

Regardless, at least Death has been taught some etiquette. This is more than I can say for those leeches in suits.

Possibly I've said too much, although I feel as though I've said nothing.

They're gasp is shaper than a blade so I use it to shave. When I'm finished I'm bleeding everywhere. Crimson liquid is pouring from me like a faucet. But I stand still letting it stain the hard cool tiles under my feet. I watch as the liquefied ruby walks, jogs, runs and escapes its superficial exterior.


Those insatiable annelids greedily lap at my scarlet life, trying to take all they can so that they may survive longer. More often than not, self-indulgence knows no bounds and if someone else does not defeat them, they simply annihilate themselves. I've seen this occur numerous times before; they give and get what they've given x100 more.

I feel no shame in what I have done. Those leeches never knew I had it in me. I peel their satiny apparel from underneath my heel. They won't be missed. Leeches rarely are.

I laugh

Then I grieve for that laughter, how short it lived. I would like to see it again. It brought me so much joy.

Soon...someday soon I will.

In the form of a corm my cranium produces a radiance that illuminates the once sinister enclosure. I am a figure of exposed, burgundy- brown that has finally realized the conclusion to life.

Life is a constant walk with death followed by a few visits from happiness.


Amber Chambers