there's not a thing that i could say to stop your blue eyes from fading to grey so all the blood will rush to my head and pour out of myself
am i invisible now, to a friend in a hospital gown. i'll still call your phone to hear your voice.
i learned a lot about death before i grew up. i watched you begin to fade when i was 18. i told myself that i would be okay. you told yourself your biggest fear was waking up each day.
so when i wake up in the morning, on top of blankets, fully clothed, i'll tare deaths fingers from my throat, to remind me that i'll never be alone.