Rich or poor

Black or white

She takes the sun

And brings the night

Despite your strength and love for life

DEATH takes us all

She's Life's dark wife...

-DeRicki

I hear Death treading closer

blasphemy of white herons

stabbing of piercing icicles

weighing me down.

I fall on my knees

dying a little every day

under the drunken moon.

Death has no face,

reflections

in my broken mirror.

Whistling, he waits

to inhale the spirit

of who I am.

I grasp my thoughts,

ricocheting in my corner.

Diabolically he walks

through windblown chasm.

Embryonic, I curl

tormented by his steps

pounding subconscious

can’t grasp reality.

I crawl toward

the brilliant light,

lost and frozen,

awareness dawning

that Death

is an impersonator.

I will not embrace

eternity today.

A knock at the door. I get up from the table, a table for one. 

"Coming," I call. 

Another knock, I don't recall inviting anyone today. Or any day for that matter. 

"Yeah, yeah," I say, opening the door. Death's here, his scythe touches the top of my door post. I stand there with my hands on my hips.

"I've come for your soul today, Ethan," He says. I could've sworn that under that shady part of his face he was grinning. I'm not. Before closing the door on him I say:

"Where were you when I called for you?"

Her fingers were icy around my waist,

But in her heart lived a burning flame of

passion for those who live life every day.

She did not fancy those who slept their lives away.

Had no use for a soul unmoved by the beauty of constant breaths.

She wanted the ones who rose with the sun, danced with the wind and painted the trees.

This was not her first attempt squeeze the life out of me.

So I smiled and poured her a cup of tea.

"Ready to try again?" I sneered.

Then, I watched her disappear.

They said it was a fake,

But who would dare impersonate him?

Then last week that woman got hit

Outside the theater and we saw him gently

Place her soul in his satchel.

I soon realized that

he wasn't really there to gather souls;

He was coming to watch me perform

Every single night.

Then one night,

As I left,

He approached.

You can't escape Death,

but I was going to try.

I hit a dead end,

And fell sobbing,

Until I saw a scarlet rose

In the skeletal hand

And heard the rattling voice ask,

"Wanna go to dinner?"

Eyes of blue filled with lust looking through,

ready to take my being over entirely.

Why should I resist?

His lips part.

Desire sparks as I grasp his collar, pulling him into me.

Our lips meet in a beautiful clash of chaotic ecstasy.

I know he just wants my body, so with everything I have I give it to him.

Sweat, Sighs, and Surrender fill the empty space around us.

In this moment I am his.

After this moment,

I am

no longer.

My body tenses up.

One last wave of sheer pleasure, debilitating pain and an exhale later,

I cease to exist.

Hello old friend.

I knew our meeting was long overdue.

As you recall, the last time we met 

I ran away in anger and fear. 

You could have followed me, but you let me escape. 

For those few extra years I am forever grateful. 

I made my peace and said my goodbyes. 

This time, I will not run. I will not hide. 

I have spent all my seconds,

Taken all my breathes.

I lived the life I was given. 

And now I can leave this world

with a smile on my face.

So I say once again, 

Hello old friend. 

Welcome my hooded friend, 

I have been seeking your visit for long. 

You needn't hide your inevitable self, 

You are my thornbird's song.

You've intrigued me for years,

I waited for the final day.

Devilish as you may seem,

I would love to walk along the bay.

Or is it a jungle trail you walk?

Carrying the vestige stock.

Is it a mountain climb so high?

Relaxing on route, by the rock.

Come hold my hand my cryptic consort,

Let us not wait anymore.

I do not intend to thwart your plans,

Let us see what you have in store?

When I was seven

and fell down the stairs 

I wanted to die.

You were 13,

you told me to wait.

When I was 13

and hit by a car

I wanted to die.

You were 18,

you told me to wait.

When I was 18,

depressed with split wrists,

I wanted to die.

You were 26,

you told me to wait.

When I was 26

and slipped off the roof

I wanted to live.

You were 26,

the spitting image of me,

like looking in a mirror.

It took me until our fourth encounter to cry.

I have a friend who walks with me

We met when I was but a child you see

I drowned not once, but thrice

He grabbed me up and took me to

My great grandmothers lap so soft and nice

he was there to keep me safe.

Ever since then he's been at my side

To warn me when it's someone else's time.

he knows I can be prepared

Because it's my heart he tries to spare

every time we have to say goodby,

It's my heart that breaks so easily

because I love so deeply.

Death loves me well.