poem #1: death is my best friend

i knew my time had come. it had to have.
he was standing in my door way,
waiting, wanting, needing, craving.
he told me "friday the 13th, my dear."
he turned and left me to wait for the next day to come.
i did not sleep. i did not eat.
i did nothing the entire night but think.
as time ticked by, i wondered.
why now? who will it be? how?
perverse questions but curiosity kills.
the dawn broke. i startled my own reflexes
by jumping out of bed and dressing myself.
i walked out my front door.
the soft light had shown me beauty.
now i saw life, i yearned for my best friend to return,
to release me from this falsehood.
i heard a faint whistling growing louder and lower.
looking up, i saw a black speck coming towards me.
my small suburban setting could not hide,
tame, conquer, misdirect, or extinguish
anything i felt in that clean sweep.
light flowing from everything,
life being stripped, human flesh burning.
........................................................
the light faded. i looked around.
nothing. nobody. anywhere.
flat, dead, desolate, lonely.
he stood in the rubble, his cloak brushing the destruction.
"i warned you. you did not run,
but faced this welcomingly."
"my time has gone and past.
take what you will, leave these souls to the carion."
he floated to me. "as you wish."
leaving the ones i had known to care for,
we drifted through walls, ground, dimensions.
.......................................................
hell. not hot. not cold. just there.
"why so indesicive, my lady?"
he sounded almost concerned,
but that's not like him.
he wants to know so he can cause more pain.
no longer human, i can take the pain.
"nothing of concern." i replied.
he gently picked me up.
held by his embrace, i realised,
my life had been his play thing,
and now, i, the result, am still his play thing.
i had no choice. my best friend has my choices in his
clammy, skeletal, cold, tearing, reapers hands.
i lay as i would for any other night,
but he lay me down not on the darkness named my bed,
but on his infinitely large one, and said
"you are my equal. you understand what i am.
you know who i am. you know all.
you know the light and the dark.
it is time you knew my reason for taking you
from the light of life."
.....................................................
he had stolen me at birth, seen what i was to become,
given me back, and was then going to take me back in a different life,
different time, different body.
he changed his judgement from non-exsistant
to caring, loving, infantesimal but there.

Death, my best friend, my lord,
my savior, my lover, my equal,
gave me back my life in a different body,
this body you see before you.
the small of my back meant to be perfect sized for his hand,
to lead in dance, love, everthing.
my hair meant to be the perfect colour and shade,
the perfect consistancy, the perfect thickness,
the perfect length for him, to brush, to tear,
to pull, to braid, to fix, anything he wishes.
i am bred through 20 lives to be his perfect bride.
in death, life, desolation, destruction, eternity.
his wish is my comand, his whim mine to realise.


to those who read this to the bottom, thank you. my gratitude goes out to the poor souls who tried to make sense of this. my heart (should it still be there) beats once for every person dying during the creation and duration of this...... whatever it is.

my sincerest appologies to you, the reader.



I am sorry.