It Is Death

 I want him to scratch away at my surface

Tear me away until there is nothing left to bleed

I want my bones to break apart

And all of my secrets and all of my lies

To stain the floor.

I want him to see the truth of me

The blood curdling screams of

A life that I have kept

Muffled and hidden behind

Eyes that do not seem to see

I want to share my ghosts

Not just the ones that never fade,

But the ones that hold onto my wrists

Keeping me here, when I would give anything to

Leave.

I want him to tear away

At skin and muscle until all that is left

Is my soul.

A dripping oily mess

Who's reflective quality

Is the thing I hate the most

I want to kill him with my

Wretchedness

I want my nightmares to haunt

His dreams

If only to have someone to share

This with.

It is death knowing the end of things.

Author's Note

This probably isn't considered horror, but that's what I put it under on my deviantArt pages, so that's what I'm putting it under here. So deal. K?

I always seem to run out of steam when I get to the end of poems, isn't that fun?