The loon and the leech

In this love poem
I'll speak of the dead
and in the horror
I'll speak of the love
and for this haiku
I'll make it a long one
at the fall of the tarred and the dying old dove

I'm a poet of fury
writing with ease
for the loss of the love and the dying old breeze
and with every new day
brings only emptiness
which would be the reason when writing I seethe

I'm a fourteen year old homeschooled loon locked up in my room
contemplating the family of your family's doom
the end of the month
is coming up soon
now cage me to hell as I howl at the moon

I am a leech
craving blood
I am the leech giving strife
I am your leech
sucking till
your blood is consumed and the end of your life
you can beat me and stab me and boil me and cut me and still I will hold on even when you cry
you can hurt me and blame me and attempt to tame me and still I'll be sucking you and until I die.