timer

a half wrapped package

not yet open

a small timer peeking out

counting down.

how much time

do i have left

before i'm gone?

before i'm blown away

by a random act of

hatred?

who could have left this gift

waiting innocently on my steps

counting down even while i slept.

my life isn't done,

some things left unsaid

yet i can do nothing but watch

as the timer keeps going down.

i scratch at

loose paper

tearing it to bits.

i'm not ready to die.

this is a simple fix.

toss it aside, take it to the police

bury it in the woods

where it'll barely make a dent.

i'm not ready to die

so why can't i move?

maybe because i know

this package is from you.

my life is incomplete

but so is my heart

and if i had to choose

i'd rather die than lose you.

so take this poem

as a declaration

even though you've killed me

i love