my nails dug through my skin,
clutching humanity,
saving myself from scarcity,
the deeper, the better and I started bleeding.
put on a sleek black dress,
in romanticized grief, I don't long to impress,
black is death, black is elegance,
I long to feel solace and trance.
might I be visiting a dead loved one,
yet my own name was etched on the tombstone,
my soul weeps for what a river nor ocean
of human tears could have poured out and done.
IA
