I'm Death's Whore

I've always had a very
passionate love affair
with Death and his black
dog. I love it's boney,
soul-crushing grasp,
the mutt that brings
the darkness and Death
can never stay away for
long.

The black dog loves
sucking the color from
my life and Death loves
sucking the life from my
body. Death's mutt loves
making my soul darker
and darker, weaker and
weaker. The black mutt
brings me closer and
closer to the brink, leads
me back to my lover.
Then, Death and I kiss.

It's always a cold sensation.
As cold as my body would
feel if I was left alone to
make morbid love with Death.
I miss my lover's cold,
unfeeling grasp as it tightens
around my heart, stilling it.
It's vice grip around my
lungs, stopping them. I miss
my lover's embrace. I think a
visit is long overdue. If I try
hard enough, if I cut deep
enough, I'll meet my lover
once more...