Death Became an Angel

May 28, 2010
By Anonymous

Death came in a white gown and
stroking my hair
with gray fingers
it spoke of
a place where
I would be safe
and I could go

I could go.

Head on the pavement
I curled into
a ball and
listened to
the hollowness of its breath echoing
against the walls of
its thin frame
its coming and going stirring the bangs on my face
I thought of this place
dark and cool
the perfect hiding space
for the ultimate oblivion
and thought

I can’t.
Stood up
and walked
beneath the clouds
in the rain

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