Cold and final

Cold and final, this touch
shuts down my eyelids,
silence slides down my throat.

I can still hear
the soft hum in your chest,
I can feel the trembling of your hands
as you tie the rope around my ankles
and wrists,
I can feel the snow biting on my skin.

I’m not a cat,
I don’t have nine lives to die,
I have nothing but this old coin
pressed on my tongue.

We all die,
some silenced by time,
some by knife.