"But do you know,
I'd like to corrupt you
in the loveliest ways?"

"oh dear..."

I see myself falling to pieces.*
I would cover your eyes,
but I'm too busy covering my own.
Watch me fall apart,
because
I cannot stand
to look.

Wake me when I'm dead,*

                                            I let the poison spread.

I taught myself to waltz
so I could dance with
the skeletons in your closet.
It's a gruesome sight
as we spin through the silence.
Silence broken only by whispers
of your secrets divulged to me.
And I learned that I was
dancing with the devil.

When I dream of the future,
I only ever see myself alone.

Aren't I supposed to dream
of tolling wedding bells
and laughing friends
and children, wrapped in my arms?

But I only see myself alone.
I cannot fathom myself
as a wife, a mother,
an adult.

I can dream so much,
And yet I still dream of myself alone.

Stop screaming,
no one can hear you
in this terrible nightmare.

He smirked at me, surprised by my sass, even in death.
Death wore a suit, looking every bit the striking businessman.
He held a heavy tome as he read my name, telling me it was not my time.
Leaning in the crook of his arm was the sharp scythe, glimmering faintly.
Death touched my face with his cold hands, his fingers brushing across my delicate lips, and under my chin.
He made me look into his eyes and spoke gently,
"It is not your time. I will see you again, but today is not the day."
A tear ran down my cheek and his icy fingers wiped it away.
Death leaned forward, his presence bringing cold and dread.
With his frosty lips, he tenderly kissed my forehead.
He kissed down my face, leaving a chill with each touch.
Death's mouth met mine as he breathed life back into me.
Everything went dark, and I sat up with a start, alone in my cold bed.

You taste like
tornado broken shards of glass,
which is to say, blood.
For that is all I taste
when consuming the crackling
pieces of lost hopes and homes.

Purple and blue and black
fade to yellow and green.
Sickly marks marring
pale as moonlight skin.
There are so many bruises,
I fear that even a golden soul
has been blackened beyond healing.

Everyone deserves a second chance,*
so they say.
But i've made too many
unfixable mistakes.*
No more chances will save me.

You can't breathe.
Gasping for air.
The panic as your lungs  fill with water.
You'd never think  water could burn so much.
The cacophony of your mind, screaming at you.
The disbelief that you are drowning.
The mind and body do not know how to die gracefully
The very process of drowning makes it harder and harder
Not to drown.

Someone once told me
not to hold dry ice,
Because it's so cold
that it will burn you.
Isn't that strange?
Something so cold
that it burns the skin?
It reminds me of you,
and the glaciers you called eyes.
I held you for too long,
and was burned
by your frigid touch.

Let us leave this place.
It reeks of anger and fear.
The bitter stench of life
disgusts me to no end.
We never asked for this,
but punishment is swift.
No questions asked
when it comes to the end.