Today feels like the end of my tricks.
The loud thumps of my heart are now silent ticks.
As now I can see my deathbed up close,
I long to lie in it, to drift in an overdose.
My breaths are shallow as I write,
This poem as a will, a way to fight,
A road to lead me out of the night.
My heart can’t seem to beat hard enough.
I’ve never feared death, I have always been tough.
Why now, I don’t seem to want to go yet?
Feels like I have an unfinished business to attend.
Is it because I haven’t found a love to fall in?
Or because of my non-existing secrets and sins?
Am I afraid of hell for I have tasted red blood?
I sipped it from beating hearts until their last thud.
Am I afraid of what I have become?
Drunk on blood instead of wine or rum.
My pride and bloodlust became the death of me,
As for my dignity and love-seeking nature wills to be.
You have been foolish to think that I trust thee,
Or anything in the world that can’t see.
See the truth that I’m eternally thine,
As you sweet death are also mine.
I tremble as I write this death note,
A confession, a lie, a sinking boat.