Death visits me at night
A raven perched upon my nightstand
I can't breathe after midnight
Her hands envelop my throat
Like a killer with a gun
Her pitch black eyes are every man who hurt me
But it's okay.
She has scars, too.
Her fingers are cherry blossom branches
Bathed in cyanide
But it's okay.
Her breath is the scent of roses
Mixed with chloroform
But it's okay.
She's my friend.
She finds a way into my brain
Into my heart
And fills my body with black ink.
She makes my blood clot and muscles contract.
But it's okay.
She's my friend.
I know she loves me.
She does!
But she's death.
And I don't love her.
But it's okay.
She'll visit me at night with cherry blossom fingers around my throat and rose-scented breath.
Because she loves me.
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POEMS
PoetryPoetry about myself, my life, and my friends. I love you all. Be safe. DMs are always open for anyone in need of help. If you are in crisis or need medical attention, please call 911 or the national suicide hotline 1-800-273-8255 (United States) ...
