sadness is slowly suffocating me
pensively rapping it’s delicate fingers around my neck
-intricately, calculatedly…quickly.
death has become my new lover
his scent clings to my skin
and underneath it
everywhere I go
why?
every bit of me is disintegrating, I’m losing control yet-
balancing on the precipice,
Waiting for the end…I stand corrected.
Spoiler
I don't usually write poems, and when I do they are catastrophic. So I kinds hope this is only half bad. This is also unnaturally depressing -.- (Somebody needs a happy meal.)

