at my age,
death is something
that grows
more & more likely
with each passing day.
even if
sixty-five
turns out to be
just halfway through
the time i get,
that’s half my life
already gone.
the reality is,
i probably have
much less than that.
now, you might think
this kind of realization
would light a fire
under my ass
to get moving
on long-delayed
plans & projects.
if you thought that, 
you would be wrong.
thinking
“i will die
sooner rather than later”
has no power
to overcome
“oh crap
i am afraid
of being alive”.
and i think
the lesson here
is that there is
no realization of
time running out.
it’s just another concept
in my mind,
an idea with no substance.
fear & anxiety
have substance.
i know them intimately.
their reality is with me
in all i do.
when it comes,
i hope my death is quick.
i hate the thought
of dying slowly
with lots of time
to regret how little
i actually lived.