I met a friend today
His name was Death
He smiled big with pure white teeth
And minty fresh breath
I asked him what he did for a living
Staring blankly at me, batting his eyelashes
He did the opposite of giving
What did that mean?
But the closer I got to Death
The better I understood his scheme
In his sharp black suit he won me over
I felt an irresistible draw
Like to a diamond in the rough, or a four leaf clover
He convinced me of the beauty in the night
That when the moon was hidden from view
There was nothing better than the lack of light
He led me from my lust for life
Sang to me in my sleep
Whispered sweet nothings and handed me the knife
I tried to pull away from my newly found friend
But his choke hold was so tight
On him I started to depend
The world could see me deteriorate into nothing
He held me harder and closer
With shortness of breath I stood huffing and puffing
Enclosed in the lackluster of our friendship I became numb
The emotions drifted with my vitality
I tried to retrieve them but could only attain 1/5th of my former sum
The more time you spend with a person
The more you become like them
I suppose I couldn't see the situation worsen
Collar around my neck he leashed me like a dog
I cared so deeply for him
My haze filled mind ignored the dense fog
I came to terms with my life long trap
Death circled like a satellite around my position
No matter where I went he found my place on the map
Eventually I succame to this fate
Despite his control
Death, I could not hate
I loved him too dearly to notice the signs
I couldn't think clearly
His presence was odious and it wasn't benign

Everything I touch
Turns into worthless dust
Everything I create
Just wants to hide away
So hideously disfigured
So disgustingly afraid
Everything I create
Is a mirror of my face
Cracked down to my soul
I'm six feet in this hole
Underneath all my mistakes
And the ****** things I create

Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again

I got scars deeper than your mind
So deep you can fall in them
So charming they infatuate you
So troubling they transfix you
So bizarre you soul search them
"Who put these deep scars here?"
You think if you look hard enough
You just might find clues of they're origin
How they came to exist in this world
Scars that deep don't just pop up, right?
"Why must they cover my body though?"
They're too deep to be overlooked
Too abstract to go unnoticed
Too cold for me to not feel
Too painful for me to forget
"Am I who created these skin drawings?"
Are these murals of my heart and soul on a wall of flesh
Does it even matter?!
Try to remember its rude to stare.