I know too well that comes to pluck off people I hold It’s a strangler on a busy highway
Taking the wheel in a fit of rage without thinking about the cost
The grim reaper has a black hood pulled over his head and covers his eyes. So that he cannot see
the tears they weep or hear the deals they make
But he knows it all the same
Light can’t get in to death’s rib cage
Instead it flows around him to touch everyone else never swarming in bushels
But ones that he will that he will receive
take away darkness, his lover now turned forte. It’s what Lingers settles in the dark with them
when the sun comes back up
Death knows that it is temporary, so are they. So the pain he inflicts seems less like pain and
more so like a spider in the corner of your room
ABOUT
Yasmine Diaz is a writer from NYC who likes dabbling in both fiction and nonfiction. In her free time she likes photography, art and curating music playlists to fictional characters and her constantly changing vibe.
Moonbow Magazine 