slow is the snail

written from a challenge prompt

cell,
by cancerous cell.
i die.....

snail like, 
my death approaches....
robbing me of my faculties,
erasing me, by mutant, toxcicty
and failing, bodily functions.

snail like, 
my death approaches...
giving me time to watch,
grief, seed and grow
into choking vines.

snail like,
my death approaches..
allowing me the gift, 
of packing my dreams,
for a bright and happy future,
into an tattered and fraying,
overnight bag.

snail like,
my death approaches.
granting me the sight
of your beautiful face,
one last time.

.....as the tears fall,
the snail arrives.
and i find in, 
the face of it all.
i wish i had made a far,
better go at at this thing,
called, life.

Author's Note

this is not me, ... it is but a poem expermental.