Out Of Reach

Death has too long accompanied me
familiarity breeds contempt
and I, who played part,
to killing fo siblings and friends
shadowed, stalked, catalyzed forever.

And I sit amid the dying light
sipping copper red tea
provided by Death himself
and encase myself in
your precious,
carelessly
careful words.

Will their power be enough
to save you from my shadow?
To break the curse
who rapes me of those I love?

Will you...
be the next he takes?

He collects my tears and drinks
and drinks with them
every drop of essence,
every drop of soul.

Then makes for me my tea
steeped with heart's blood,
mourning and missing
to taste,
and a sweet touch of remembrance.

But perhaps worse yet,
is the loss by choice,
that causes a shed of tears
for you.