Death,
I'd like to think death to be a pair of angel twins.
One light and peaceful, one dark and painful.
One whole and beautiful, shining like the stars.
One scarred and broken, dark as night
And it all depends on who their Mother chooses to send.
Life,
What kind of death you will encounter,
depends on your life,
how you lived.
Was it full of Evil and Violence?
Did the devil on your shoulder deafen you?
His whispers and murmurings in your ears,
almost soothing,
but so hypnotising
Or was it Goodness and Love?
Did the angel on your shoulder protect you,
from the darkness threathening to swallow you?
Her wings covering you in a protective, warm embrace?
“I’ve always wanted to tell you...”
“I’ve always wanted to tell you...” I hesitated.
He looked up from his phone at me and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “Yes?”
“Iknowyouareprobablygoingtohatemeforthisbut——”
“Woah, easy, tiger. Slow down, sweetheart. I know I’m beautiful but you really don’t have to be so anxious,” He half-smirked, half-said.
“Fine,” I sighed and took a deep breath.
“Yourzipperisn’tzippedI’msorrynowpleasedon’thatemeIdon’tlikeyouactuallyitsjustthatIfeel
superbadforyousincethismorningamojgotherthingsokbye.”
And I ran.