"Death becomes you," so she said

While standing at my door.

Covered black, the eerie thread-

"Your soul, I so adore!"

Passed from skeletal design,

A midnight robe ablaze.

Living as its own divine

Encapsulated daze,

There I stood, a drooping heart

Insisting I should live.

Death said, "No, you must depart.

So take the gift I give."

Thinking of the many things 

That I had left to do,

Losing life, the feeling stings.

"I will not follow you."

Came from me, each feeble word,

And Death just stared ahead.

"Dear, you must not be absurd.

If I arrive, you're dead.

No goodbyes, no second chance;

Beyond the worldly gate

You and I will pass in glance;

For none escape their fate."

Pausing for a tear to fall,

I pondered o'er my life.

Death consumed me in her call,

She had become my wife.

Nothing left for me to say;

No utterance to pan.

Breathing in, I made my way

And left the age of man.

Gulping down the bittersweet,

Adventure would renew.

Taking hold her hand's entreat,

I heard her ... "Death becomes you."

He danced with me 

    not by my choice

Trying to plead 

    I lost my voice

The air we breathed 

    was cold as ice

His grip on me 

    was like a vice

I heard his whisper 

    down my spine

His voice began to 

    sound like mine

When I gazed 

    into his eyes

So like mine 

    with no disguise.

He pulled me closer 

    held me tight

No point in putting 

    up a fight

Our breath began 

    to coalesce

The sweetness of it 

    I confess

I felt the numb 

    traverse my flesh

As with his 

    began to mesh

My body now 

    begins to mold

His every crease 

    and every fold

All at once at 

    first like fire

Then cold as ice 

    began to tire

He laid us both 

    down on the bed

Through his veins my 

    blood flowed red

I felt release 

    as I succumbed 

I knew my life I 

    had just shunned

I heard a whisper 

    in my ear

"Death does become you, 

    love, my dear."

I watch from the shadows

as bedroom lights go out.

Silence wraps you,

mind chatter quieting.

Comfort soothes you,

cozy blankets warming.

Sleep disarms you,

drowsy eyes slumping.

Dreams engage you,

day's events replaying.

Fear disturbs you,

sixth sense keening.

I slither in from the shadows

as moonlight rises.

Compulsion drives me,

And death, yes, death becomes you.

Time has spun its line, and met it's end.

Choices made, too many sins to

repent.

His presence is still and alarming.

As I gaze upon the eyes, they stare back like two black holes consuming all life, it shows my mortal life was weak.

And with a furrowed brow, he asked, "Does Death become you?"

Where did it go? This life run short.

I remember so little as it ran its course.

His closeness feels cold and frightening.

The dark shroud surrounds me, pulling me to lay down in unpleasant dreams, I know my mortal life was brief.

And as he bowed his head so he said, "Death becomes you."

These brittle bones and diseased flesh have no strength.

No chance to fight, no shot at redemption.

The darkness seems calm and inviting.

The icy hand opens toward my clenched fist. The door closes, a chapter ends, my mortal life is seized.

And with a toothy grin he exclaimed, "Death becomes you."

After a long and torturous fight

My body frail and now a toxic waste site.

I'm ready to be escorted by Fox into the light

As I step out from this used, ugly husk,

The sun is setting an now is dusk

My escort takes my hand that's all aglow

My own spiritual lights essence gleaming doth show.

He turns to me and tells me I am such a beauty too

That in life I was pretty,

But now,

"Death becomes you!"

In Far Eastern mythology Foxes were once human whose spirits moved into the bodies of a Fox. As a result there is a sense of Fox being a communicator, bearing the messages of ghosts and the Ancestors. I relate to this very well.

Death becomes you when you allow it to take your soul 

when you sleep through it 

and you don't use your time wisely 

so the reaper takes his hook and drags you with him to the grave

he takes his hook and connects it to your coronary artery and jolts the nerve in your neck 

and rips out your pulse and pulls you by the neck and kisses death in your mouth 

so there is no chance of you coming out of this coma 

he turns right then left 

then he throws your body into the  ground 

and throws dirt over you 

so everyone won't have to deal with your decaying and disgusting body..

Death was coming 

and he is sending his chariot with the reaper riding it 

Hope you lived wisely 

You became like death. I saw it happen. Eyes that once shown with the light of a million candles flickered and burned out. It left you cold. It left you unapproachable. I did not understand what had happened. I hoped to bring you back. They told me it was natural. She is aging. She has always been fearful. It is normal. Sometimes dying is easier. The world is a hard place, best to just distance oneself from all that. I did not even remember when it happened. Am I to blame? Always, I think back to what used to be. A wondrous fantasy of memories that I recall from behind a rose colored glass. Once upon a time, you would smile at me. You would play games with me, and tell me jokes. I remember. I would rush home to you every day after school. I was so eager to please you. That was before you became impossible to please. That was before you stood rigid as if you were always preparing for war. That was before every word you spoke was a defense for an attack that I never made. You swore that I did, but I know that I did not. Once upon a time a suggestion to grab a hot drink on a cold afternoon would not have been a frightening prospect. I thought it could be fun. Then I learned to stop asking to do things with you. It would never be fun. How could it be when it is easier for you to scroll through you Facebook feed then to listen to me tell you about my day? How could it be when you would rather stare blankly at a flickering television screen than help me with my homework? You might not drink, but that does not mean that you are sober. I drag my feet now all the way home. I cannot even look you in the eyes. You never could understand what was going on in my mind. Is that why you always distance yourself from me instead of connecting? Is that why I do not feel safe with you anymore when I am scared? Is that why I find it so much easier to sit and watch YouTube for hours and hours and hours?  Did I learn it from you? Well, at least I learned it from the best. Maybe one day I will truly follow in your demeaning footsteps, and death will become me; just like death became you.

"Death becomes you," he snickered as she gagged on the poison he'd slipped her minutes ago.

"H-h-h-h-how c-c-could you do this t-t-to m-m-me?" She croaked.

His mouth formed into a wide grin, showcasing his shark-like teeth.

"It's simple my dear," he cooed as he caressed her hair. "I love you................... TO DEATH!!!!!!!"

Bloody bile dribbled down her chin as her last breaths of life left her. Tears ran down her face in anguish. But in death, she was not alone.

"Death becomes you." Fingertips caress feebly a collarbone of glass. The power held above my own head is as knives are against a captive's throat; he knows that the next step is the final one, and though I'd much prefer to forget the fact, I've found myself staring it in the face. 

I had forgotten how easy it is to remember. 

I had forgotten how his hands abused me, hands that crushed my spirit moons ago.