She & Death

Submitted by Anna on Thu, 01/31/2013 - 00:01

She flirted with death,
buried
her face in his black hoodie,
arms ‘round his waist as if they shared a motorcycle.
She breathed in his place, breathed in his scent,
and it was sickly sweet like
the rotted body
of an overripe strawberry.
But death’s ribcage is not for show;
his stopped heart needed only time to grow fond,
inexorably, of her fearless nearness.
Her tantalizing dance on his edges
rattled his bones to their marrow.
She would have grown old waiting for him
if he had known she did not think of him as he did her
(did not think of him at all).
But death did not know she reached in ignorance,
and so he clasped her smooth hand in return.
Death flirted with her
six feet under
and kissed her cold and fierce; like wind through clothes
she felt it rip her soul. At her wake,
death grinned like a skull.

Author's age when written
17
Genre
Notes

I didn't get the next chapter of The Girl Who Spent Christmas Eve in Faerie edited in time for this month's post, so you get a morbid poem personifying Death instead. I tend to like portrayals of the Grim Reaper, actually. But I will note that this is like... mythology, not my actual conviction of death.

Comments

..........that was incredible. A friend of mine and I were going to write a novel about the grim reaper, actually. We might still go through with it, we just both got busy. Anyway, I loved this indescribably much.

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

..........that was incredible. A friend of mine and I were going to write a novel about the grim reaper, actually. We might still go through with it, we just both got busy. Anyway, I loved this indescribably much.

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

Ohmygoodnessgracious.

I absolutely LOVE this. Love love love love it. It's beautiful. It needs to be made into a book, or something. LOL! :))) Seriously, you should expand upon this.

buried
her face in his black hoodie,
arms ‘round his waist as if they shared a motorcycle.

and it was sickly sweet like
the rotted body
of an overripe strawberry.

I LOVE the bold words you put in. It gave this a very dark twist, and I loved it. Okay, I keep using the word love, but seriously...!!!

Fantastic job, Anna! :o)

This gave the reader the sensation like they were reading something really dark or really really surreal. Also a yucky feeling that makes you want to look behind you....to see if something is there. Nice job. :D Glad that this is not your conviction of death....might of thought something wrong there if that was the case.....lol. Always love reading your poems and stories, Anna. God bless :D

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh

This. Is. Amazing.

I love the imagery. (Is that weird?) And I love personification. I've never heard death described like this before. Less sickly-sweet-pain and more dangerous-can't-help-myself.

I especially liked the almost-ending:
"Death flirted with her
six feet under
and kissed her cold and fierce; like wind through clothes
she felt it rip her soul."

Just wow.

The most astonishing thing about miracles is that they happen.
-G. K. Chesterton

Wow! This is really good! I really like the imagery in here, and the entire feel is exactly what it seems it should be. It isn't too morbid, but it is still realistically morbid, if that makes sense. :)

See him with his books:
Tree beside the brooks,
Drinking at the root
Till the branch bear fruit.
See him with his pen:
Written line, and then,
Better thought preferred,
Deep from in the Word.
~John Piper

Wow! This is really good! I really like the imagery in here, and the entire feel is exactly what it seems it should be. It isn't too morbid, but it is still realistically morbid, if that makes sense. :)

See him with his books:
Tree beside the brooks,
Drinking at the root
Till the branch bear fruit.
See him with his pen:
Written line, and then,
Better thought preferred,
Deep from in the Word.
~John Piper

Wow! This is really good! I really like the imagery in here, and the entire feel is exactly what it seems it should be. It isn't too morbid, but it is still realistically morbid, if that makes sense. :)

See him with his books:
Tree beside the brooks,
Drinking at the root
Till the branch bear fruit.
See him with his pen:
Written line, and then,
Better thought preferred,
Deep from in the Word.
~John Piper

Not to mention downright creepy.

<><~~~~~~~~~~~~><>
"The idea that we should approach science without a philosophy is itself a philosophy... and a bad one, because it is self-refuting." -- Dr. Jason Lisle

Erin: Thanks! What's the story about?
HomeschoolGirl: Oh, thank you!! I thought of expanding on it, but I couldn't think of much more to say... But seriously, thank you.
Maddi: Sorry about the yucky feeling. My mom actually didn't believe that I wrote this because of the tone. I wasn't sure how to take that. *shakes finger* Don't flirt with Death, now! LOL.
little woman: No weirder than my writing the imagery, I hope! Thank you. :)
Elizabeth Anne: I think we're on the same page. (I love your new picture, btw.) Thank you!
James: Shall I take that as a compliment?

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief

It was kind of personifying the reaper as being a human before he became the reaper.....it was pretty cool, if I do say so myself, haha.

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond