TASTE OF DEATH

vanshika chauhan

I painted words.
The thin paper of life tore.

Hungry and salivating eyes,
Tearing scraps of skin.

Black liquid ink.
Splashed on my face;
Smeared and smudged
Blotting the void of blood

Bruised leg and bleeding lip.
And my eyes-
Perfect and hollow.
Pale skeletal hands.tired.
A rag stuffed in my mouth.

Wine and candles.
Black eyes and cigarette butts.
One last attempt at fate.
One last effort.
Futile and final.

A deep gaze into the night.
Into his eyes.
Black.Cold.Rich.
Everything and nothing.
That is the taste of death....