there's not a thing that i could say
to stop your blue eyes from fading to grey
so all the blood will rush to my head
and pour out of myself
am i invisible now,
to a friend in a hospital gown.
i'll still call your phone
to hear your voice.
i learned a lot about death before i grew up.
i watched you begin to fade when i was 18.
i told myself that i would be okay.
you told yourself your biggest fear was waking up each day.
so when i wake up in the morning,
on top of blankets, fully clothed,
i'll tare deaths fingers from my throat,
to remind me that i'll never be alone.