Sometimes I don't know why,
We rather live than die,
Nobody want to see us cry,
How are we supposed to get our piece of mind,

Don't think, just jump,
Just slit, you're a slump,
Feel the heat, keep the gas pumped,
Carve your meat, You're no trump.

You breathe my name into
your chest, letting me settle
like dust into your bones.

Tethering me to this moment,
eyes fierce, burning as vibrant
as tiger lilies in a vengeful sun.

Your fingers burning holes in
our sheets, leaving remnants
of their disgust in my scars.

Even to this day I cannot stay
up for the sunrise, I find your
taste infused on my tongue.

And I'm still left to wonder if it
was Lucifer I saw in your eyes
or the gods that condemned me.

I love how you put a smile on me every time I see you.
When I first saw you I had already knew,
This love is no doubt true.
All these feels really new.

You're spontaneous in so many ways,
You make any guy craze,
Your everything is something to praise.
Every time I'm still amazed.

You don't see me as I do towards you,
Because everything I am to you.
It's always a number two.
I question, what do I do?

It's funny how you're not taken,
If I'm not mistaken.
You're an addiction.
A real true limited edition.

Sometimes I kind of forget your name,
Yeah that's quite lame
But that's fine,
I'll just call you mine.

De'ath sat in the corner.
Toking on his pipe.
He wore a pair of carpet slippers.
Given to him by his wife.
His son came in from the store, he said "Dad you don't want to be smoking that ******* no more, it'll surely be the death of you."
De'ath said "no son of course, your right; without pipe tobacco the future is bright."
Mrs Death discarded his ifs and butts.
Okay, no butts, just bits of pipe dust.
Flakes of pipe tobacco scattered all around the room.
The mouthpiece of his pipe had been nibbled round the edges, he found it somewhat therapeutic.
Mrs De'ath said "Please dear, will you give your pipe to me, as a non-smoker you'll be able to breathe".
"Of course dear" said De'ath, as he took his last breath.
A little too late, today was his date.
His successor knocked ******* the door.
"Let me in, I'm ****** freezing".
Mrs De'ath opened the door, she told De'ath so many times before that she knew the score.
Smoking would surely be the death of him
Obviously, she knew best.
Clever Mrs De'ath.
(C) LIVVI