Death comes walking,
with a slight limp to her left leg
caused by the wear and tear
of eternities past,
and she casually tells me
that she’s taking my friend.
Would I have preferred if death was visiting
to take me instead?
During a paralyzing moment of
splintering, rib crushing pain
from the sudden reality of the loss of my friend,
I think, yes, take me first.
In the dark light of losing a love
my spirit goes black
as the interface between life and death
wrinkles when a soul
diffuses through it.
When I close my eyes
I see purple lasers and auroras
that mimic my friend’s eclectic electricity
once shimmering through
quartz crystals
and old bottle bottoms.
Now lost in a sea of tears.
I desperately search
for solid sandy ground,
sharks circling, fish biting
my toes that stretch down
feeling around
in fanned out fashion.
I take on so much water
treading and bobbing
before I am back at shore.
I crawl atop the sand, spitting up the sea,
when I encounter death’s feet,
and looking up
I see death turn to walk away
As in my friend’s absence
Her work is done.
Lillibit Ray has always written in her own personal journals, and she has taken several creative writing classes which helped her to develop and evolve a story or poem using real life experience and richer characters to bring the story or poetry to life.