You let me go.

Your trembling hands loosen the grip.

I slip between your fingers.

I kiss the air, ecstatic.

My chill sublimes into nothingness.

Death seems just so beautiful.

I crash with a clink.

All I see around, is me.

Dead, Am I?

“It’s a glass,” the reflection says.

I let a sigh of relief.

But should I?

I stare up to the heavens.

I see your profound eyes.

Smeared with anguish.

Drenched in tears.

Am I not worth your mercy?

Am I so worth your misery?

You pour in your best champagne,

I tussle with the fizz that wrestles.

As you rain, I choke within.

For am I not the purest?

Now sinking in glistening venom.

I rise, It takes me high.

I feel the brim, I feel myself die.

I see your talking eyes, closer.

You’re my culprit; are you not?

You shed a tear, meanwhile.

I have a death companion.




It spits a zillion words,

and perishes in my venom.

I wish no mercy from you.

Perhaps my poison is your pal.

I wish to kill your pain,

I wish to die, and then be reborn,

As a tear within your eye,

For I’m so worth your misery.

Am I not?

Image source: pixabay.com