By Diya Sharma
As I get ready to step out,
I take a peek outside.
I put my scarlet boots on,
Italian rawhide, high-top, high-heeled.
Not a splatter of blood would show
as I’d step on bodies,
my feet warm and concealed.
I put on my overcoat,
Merino beige, plenty of pockets
to keep me warm
from doom’s cold.
I put on my watch,
a Rolex, vintage and gold.
I’d know when it’s time
to embrace the end.
Finally, I put on my shades,
stark black, bigger than my face,
to shade me from lifeless colors
and make living worthwhile.
I’m ready to step out now.
There is an apocalypse outside.
At least I’d die in style.