Companion death

Of course I shouldn't feel excruciating pain but it is there regardless. Strangly, it is still in the corner wearing its black robe. So the trees wave in the background and make that awfully
scary sound; the one that sounds like nails scratching the pavement, like hair brushing from my face...and like the last time we kissed.


As a little girl playing dollies, you were there with me. You taught me how to put them to sleep with my poison. I had bottles of blue, bottles of green...all sorts of bottles I stole from
father's shed. You laughed at me when I watched my dollies die. I put my little hand over my mouth in horror. You were like proud father death then. I was just beginning to know what hell
was.


Then, in another lifetime, you were whispering secrets in my ear by the road side. When I couldn't drive anymore because I was sexually aroused to the point that I was almost using my mind to
stimulate myself. I couldnt stay in my own lane that time and so I pulled to the shoulder of the road to finish. Your voice was strange and heated, filled with a thick creamy foam that I
imagined to be your manhood's tears. You were there during those strange years and you were my little death.


Of course I shouldn't cry for you because it would be a silly thing to do. I hate the way they cling to me but now I cling to you. Your shadow wavers by the door. YOur hand print is growing
cold and dreams of you will surely come in nightmares upon my tight closed lids. I have no more faith for goodness of this world.

My brain is ridden with cobwebs of love's demise. I cannot hope for things that I steal. I cannot beg for things, my pride is hidden beneath the bricks of a crumbling wall
I see the figure by the trail in the moonlight. I think I recognize the bones of the face. I know its you....

but I shall stay within the thorny brambles of my heart...for now.