One day,
without your knowing,
you invite death in and
he
stays.

He goes to all of your parties and he is in all of your photos
and you wonder
if he was such a bad guy after all.
Until you wake up one morning and there is one less
face to recognize
and death
is still
there.

Once more set sail, heart, for the pinewood South.
I hope she remembers you,
you loved her for so
long.

I heard a song that I think you would have liked,
for all I know you do already
somewhere out there.

"Black as the kettle, the hypocrite pot"

I imagine such a line making you smile.
Clever girl,
how rose colored you are.

How damaged you were.
How lost you'll always be.
I'll never know you again
and isn't that just justice
for my narcissistic
youth.

While I accept my sentence
I call upon the mercy of the court
to have your ghost, ever haunting,
visit me
no
more.