I held hands
with
Death
today.
He wasn't cold
or
<dark>
He was smiling
and inviting
and it felt like such a
<stark>
difference
between expectation and reality.
He embraced me
with
open arms
and
encouraged me to
<rest>
I felt like I was
finally seen
and though it was the
<best>
solution to my hurting -
a reprieve from
endless pain -
He offered me
a sleeping pill
while
standing in the rain.
His umbrella red,
the pill itself was black.
He encouraged me to
take it with some wine
to throw it back.
I had no fear
of what he proposed,
it seemed like a
fair trade -
for me to take His medicine
in exchange to fill His
grave.
You'd think with His
suggestions
the choice
could not be rougher -
But one will do
most anything
to be sure to not
suffer.
You may ask
how I've gotten here:
how my life is such a lie:
But I will do
most anything
to not have to
say goodbye.
The rain Death
saves me from
is made of my
own tears,
and before I drown
in what I've produced,
I'd like to go
before my
<fears>
take over
this persona -
of having it together ...
because if it weren't
for my old friend, Death,
I'd be miserable forever.
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