The Last Appointment

The Last Appointment

I am falling, diving, plunging toward the earth, and to my untimely death.
I tell myself, “I'm not ready for a handshake with Death,” but it's too late for any regrets.
And in that moment, I forgot what I was losing my mind about.
And in this moment, I realize that life is like a ferris wheel - it's always up and down.

I kept telling myself, “I'm not the desperate type,” but it looks like I was.
I really was desperate. I'd cried tears you'll never see, and was always a scar away from falling apart.
I saw nothing worth living for, for days, weeks, months, years.
I was just a nervous wreck, doomed from the start.

And as I approach tierra firme, I think of what could have been my famous last words, had I seen my “friends”:
“Thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great. I don't feel a thing for you.”
But their response forms in my head, making me break into tears once more:
“Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.”
Nobody ever cared.

And with this newfound realization, I accept my doom.
After all, if death is the last appointment, then we're all just sitting in the waiting room.
We're all gonna die, it's just a matter of time.
My time has just come early.

I snap out of my thoughts, and I hear the nurse calling my name, right as I'm hitting the ground. Everything fades to black, and with a jolt, I awake from my dream.

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