A Poem For The Sick Beings

A poem about terminal illness. How does one fall in love chained to their grave?

She was a different sort of damsel; between her promiscuous soul and purified innocence in her eyes, irony is the only word she described

She was one who leaked with chronicity and only gleamed with true felicity when she was free, which was one of the plenty pleasure that was robbed by her disease

She lived life softly, blending into the background noise where no one would notice her - blending in with the alcohol so no one would remember her

Though she still gleamed

Her face didn't smell like foundation, and her lips weren't stained red from the rage she's spoken; she hasn't been polluted by other men's illusions, but to find her you have to look past the sirens who live to be alluring, so she's never been found

until now

Getting to know her was like stumbling upon a stray cat of whom you want to give a home, she froze, but astonishingly she didn't run away; she was timid at first, so very timid and shy, she walked so lightly on this earth that she didn't leave footprints, so feeling my thunder no doubt frightened her,

but she was brave and cats are curious by nature, so when I knelt down to let her sniff my fingers, she did hesitantly, and one night in the ante meridiem, I was awoken by her purring, curled up on my chest sleeping,

She was safe... she was sound...

She told me not to, but damn it, I fell in love with her

Despite her endless warnings, despite her protesting, "you are both a fool and a madman, testing fate that is destined, testing fate that cannot be swayed," despite her living her life chained to her grave, damn it, she fell in love with me too,

and now I shall cry

I cry because I miss her, I cry because that happiness has been ripped from my trembling fingers, shattered, broken, and trodden on by the tires of her hearse

As I stand here withering deep, deeper into the depths grief, I reach my hand out for her by my side where her weight should be pressing, forgetting she beneath the stone in which I'm staring...

"You are both a fool and a madman, testing fate that cannot be swayed," indeed, but I know both the fools and the madmen agree,

you were worth it