Death

I went to see her, and there she was...

Bones, fighting to the surface,

Spiky promontories,

Aching...

From within.

Brittle protrusions, fairly breaking skin.

And she, looks...like death.

Demon within her feasts,

Taking it's fill,

In flesh,

And spirit alike.

Musculature eroding

And, she looks...like death.

Stagger of a bourbon drunk, walking a tightrope.

Unable to lift her light head.

And she looks...like death.

Bruises, left by whispers,

On a once healthy esteem.

Only doubt

Would remain,

It seems.

And, she, looks...like death.

Her lot, a constant aching.

Listening close....

I can hear her soul breaking.

(her heart, was long ago)

And she looks, like death...

I read the fear, in those sunken eyes.

And feel her resignation,

In every sigh.

And, she looks....

Like

Death