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Apr 2016
i liked to be closer to death because it made life just a little bit sweeter.
sitting on ledges, just for the occasional heart flutter, slight gasp.
smoking cigarettes, seeing people walk by with faces of disgust, because your ***** second hand smoke was robbing them of their precious lives,
or pity, because i was robbing me of mine.
drinking until i feel my insides come back up, harshly, and, without dignity, id bow down. and the weakness in my knees and the precarious state of my stomach.
starving myself, feeling the twists and the turns and the pangs of hunger, seeing if i can go longer, seeing if i can eat less, seeing if i can be less.
or all the drugs that made me lifeless, limbless, paralyzed for too short of a time.
the constant ever approaching, never arriving death, made me more thirsty for every breath, a little happier to see the sun rise, a little happier.
and then you befriended me, death.
you consumed only smoke.
you were sweet and enticing, as you slowly ****** the life out of me. you were toxic.
but we built a beautiful castle of darkness. we staved off the light as if it would **** us, and maybe it would have.
we made crowns of wilted flowers and sipped sin from the bottle. we'd hold hands and frolic among the valleys of sorrow.
we danced with the devil and then you ****** him while you drank my blood.
things would blacken and shrivel around us, and i blamed myself. and you blamed me. and the sun never rose on our empire of darkness.
i was your prisoner, as you slowly killed me, drained me.
death, you are a soulless, selfish, manipulative blackhole of a being.
you blamed me for killing you, and that almost killed me.
so i ran from you, crying and shaking, life no longer tasted sweet.
you spoiled everything.
death, you will continue to feed off of the life around you but you cannot live just as much as i cannot **** you.
He Pa'amon
Written by
He Pa'amon
271
   yasaman johari
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