Frilly dark ripples, made of Death.
My love, he brings me flowers.
Petals break, break the surface of lies.
The once painful black,
Gone, and now I am alone.
He cannot hide, and I reflect.

I wonder if he will reflect.
I really miss my Death.
It is too hard to dance alone.
So I forgive him over flowers.
Words hidden in the black.
Tell myself, “Don’t care if he lies.”

And he does, the lies
they pile up, and they reflect,
him, even in the black.
My sweet, leeching Death.
He whispers love with flowers.
So why do I feel alone.

Funny thing about alone,
my eyes open to the lies.
Even the very flowers,
are starting to reflect,
that my sweet love, Death,
his heart is all black.

His soul is black.
And I hope he stays alone.
I called him MY Death,

And he called to me with lies.
And with a mirror I reflect,
the charm of the fragrant flowers.

And so I throw the flowers.
I throw them into the black.
So they can leave me and reflect
the pain of being alone.
I turn, there will be no more lies,
I am ready to accept the truth of death.

So Death, he runs after, calling lies.
I reflect on my silly thoughts, from a time caught in the black.
I am not alone. I stop and smell real flowers.