My reflection told me that she’d pray for me,
arms crossed and lips in a pout.
I used to hate her.
Now I just feel worn out,
a sputtering candle,
forgoing oxygen for something else.
I’m drifting now.
This is a strange ocean,
filling up the corners of my mind.
There’s nothing worse than wet insulation.
I tried do-it-yourself,
with a hairdryer and some glue.
But there’s no fixing
awash in a mess of blue.
up to their necks in rose colored lust.
Their eyes are lowered to the ground.
I cannot stop this bleeding
With the cries of men beating at my back.
And this heroic candlelight,
offering much more than virtue.
To the common moth,
a broader view.
Humans should not fear death,
for we caused it in the first place.
Death fears nothing,
nor does it bow to any vestibule of fate.
Love fears nothing,
not even Death.
In some cases,
Love and Death are the same person.
Two halves of a coin.
Two sides of a card.
Two faces of a god.
Two hands of a devil.