You can listen to an audio recording of this poem here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67fl9ksgdsE&t=29s
Make it a swift death, an easy death, a silent death,
A gone while she slept comfortably in her bed, death.
Don't let it be a crushed skull, a shattered windshield, broken bones, horrid, scarred, disfigured flesh.
Don't let it a be mindless bullet to the chest, my body sprawled on the dirty floor of the grocery store, blood splattered on the glistening green cabbages, and seeping under aisles.
Let it be it's what she would have wanted, let it be she was at peace with the world and herself. Don't hook me to numerous beeping machines, tired indifferent eyes above facemasks, hurried glances at riddled charts, a sigh of relief "finally! she can rest."
Don't let it be a brutal blazing fire, body grotesquely writhing, hysterical guttural screams, smoke filled lungs failing, charred eyes, singed hair, seared limbs, the stink of burning skin.
Don't let it be nails digging at an airplane seat, the terror of descending six hundred miles an hour to an immanent death, babies' desperate cries tearing at their mothers' chests, the horror of watching of waiting for it to end.
Don't let it be brain matter, guts, and gore. Don't let it be a hideous, grisly fright of a dismembered corpse. Don't let it be a prolonged decaying suffering.
Let it be fast, like a stolen lover's kiss, or a bitter sharp slap, let it be exact.
Let it be like an awakening from a long tiresome dream. Let it be as liberating as wide open doors, as uplifting as a thousand flapping wings of swans in flight.
