Why is it always a river?
Water so calm
In a rowboat
But no one is rowing
Gently passing the banks
Lined with blooming willows
The light breeze grazes my skin
Death sits next to me
Cold boney arm around me
He is nothing to be feared
He offers comfort and solace
Diagonal sits my grandfather
Scowl has softened
He\'s old, yet somehow youthful
He offers a sympathetic smile
\"You\'d better get the thought
Of suicide off your mind, little girl.\"
How does he know?
\"You can try all you want
But you WILL wake up again.
You have work to do first.\"
Beside him, a woman nods
Hair gray and frizzy
Separated into two ponytails
Thick glasses cover half of her face
She is unfamiliar
Why is she part of this intervention?
She plays an important role,
I\'m just unsure how
\"Some have a fire inside them
Just waiting to be ignited
You, my child, have a damn hurricane.
USE it!\"
Thousands of questions
Bounce and collide in my head
All i can manage to squeak out is
\"Can you be more specific?\"
Her serious expression does not change
Death\'s face cannot be read
As it is veiled by the dark hood
Grandpa chuckled and replied
\"No.\"
Before anything else could be said
Im back in my room
Laying in bed with a cold sweat.