Leaves die in the fall,
and I’m that cold wind.
Cancer that kills
all cells within.
Everything I touch
just wilts with a nudge
as glares and smiles
all start to judge.
When the sun finally rises
and winter’s away
grass in the fields
all raise to the day.
But my back yard withers.
All sad to see,
everything I touch
dies to its knees.
Beautiful, but yet
with a touch it is crumbled.
Unknown to me,
my touch only stumbles.
Loosening the dirt
with sweet talk of a dove.
So quick into lust.
So quick into love.
When all is settled.
At last a right pair.
That match lights in flames,
ashing in-to thin air.
This winter’s a cold one,
as the cancer spreads thick.
Clenching last breathes,
and killing so quick.
A life so familiar,
Living’s a tease.
Everything I touch
dies to its knees.