Death & I

From birth, I’ve always known its name.
Born bound to be together, I’d say.
Why isn’t my shadow just a quiet silhouette?

Whether I sit here or hide somewhere,
At every turn, she seems to catch my breath.
What is it, between me and Death?

She haunts me, maybe.
Or shelters me — I wonder.
Then holds me hostage, static,
Showing me my own mortality
She never lets me go.

She is everywhere I look.
In the misstep on the staircase
Under the bus, crossing the street.
Between the cuts of the kitchen’s knife.
Even in the water down the wrong pipe.

Death is in the mirror.
Not in its sharp edges.
But in my reflection.

Are we the same?
Will she let me live?
Will she ever leave?

Anything could be the death of me.
Maybe then, I’ll finally be free.
Or will I then be hers forever?

Whether I stand fearless or cry terrified,
She walks beside me, tracing my path.
What is it, between me and Death?

My mortal words collide
What was thought makes no sense
What I said before was outgrown
What if my last words get lost in relevance?

I tread carefully with each step,
In the shade, I shield myself from Death.
She keeps her eye on the clock.
When it’s time, it’s time.
What is it between me and Death?

©Mayra Gomes. All rights reserved.