take from me this white rose
her sunken eyes
follow me across my room
where I am seated at my desk
her pale hands play at the skin of my wrists
and her mocking laughter eats at my joy

she is the bird
perched on a branch above my bed
her lullaby, a nightmare
tossing me awake from my dream
her teeth rip at my chest
I am young
I am young
I say
and she, with her cool rasp
breathes a death rattle into my lungs

you are old
you are the night
you are mine