death is a sneaky person
he can snake tendrils into the folds of your brain
while you stare at a blank page
hoping the slithering in your head
is inspiration begging to be let into the empty space

the time between was a constant crime
perjury over and over to a jury of past selves
the slithering I felt at 14 became a buzzing by 21
and at 23, could cause hearing damage
I had to scream my inner monologue
just to hear myself

death and I walked together
and soon, his grip on me
transformed into my grip on him
holding on tight to what he promised me
"death," I spoke to my longest friend,
"won't you take me soon?"

those words became breakfast on hard days
lunch on long days
until it was dinner every night

I finally had the courage to look him in the eyes
so that I might see who I adored so dearly
his grip loosened on me to take down his hood
and I saw the life I hadn't led
every promise I never kept
every cut that ever bled
I saw a quiet somber in death's eyes
and I realized I had to let him go

with a sad smile,
I indulged my old confidante
and promised to live until he was ready
to walk together again.