living in description.dyeing in decription.

her heart doesnt even race,when she escapes,
she does it so often, theres not a beat out of place,
slowly slipping through there deffences,
chuckling at their failed atempts, their close, attention,
detail, to the locks and the bolts,
she slowly slips through, their tiny faults,
dont ever leave the door unlocked,
with her around, she can slip out like smoke,
without a sound, sliding through the tiny seams,
using the balls of her feet to climb and leap,
from a second story balcony, landing,
so silently and prowling across her souls boundaries,
into her wonderland, where shadows are friends,
and mosters are waiting at every bend,
you think you live a double life, every adjective,
a slight lie, well as she enters another hollow alley,
where another ended destiny whiles away,
its dwindling time,
she replaces her mask, with her face,
and blends with the monsters in which,
her single soul was beckoned to take place,
in the according lie she was assingned to fake.

she breaths, the cold prickles her skin,
leaving it pale and transparent a glowing shade of beige,
she flows over the leaves, which crackle under the weight,
of the wind, and when she is safeley secure she begins to sing,
sickly sweet blues with no single tune, she goes,
across a trickling river and across an oval,
speckled with moon, fitting her thin feet,
into the earths soft grooves, she leaves her body as it splays,
around her it collapses to the ground until a soul,
comes in and makes it stand its ground, she leaves it,
without a single break in her silent sounds,
soon she is whisking away over the city,
the lights in a beautiful onslaught flitter in a quick,
electrical bicker, she goes to her assigned reaping,
and under the windows her detatched soul,
begins seeping.

An old lady gazing at the opposite side of the bed,
slowly rests her head,
where her husband once layed,
there is now a pillow to take his shape,
time took him from her, and now she is alone,
forgotten and ancient, in a modern world,of metal stone
she sighs and prepares to fall asleep,
as she slowly slips into her blissfull dreams
of lost loved ones,
old friends, long dead, family, replaced by new daughters and sons,
and the world replaced anew, every fashion erased,
every moral replaced, she is lost within the oldness,
of the world which she once existed within,

the girl smiles and soflty rests her palm, upon the creased,
forehead of a life so long dead,

as the old lady dies in her sleep,
slowly the old ladies soul,
the grim reaper reaps,
and into the night she sinks away,
to take her next victim,
feeling lost and delisciously merciful,
she plays with the surrealness her life has come to,
none of the things she does,
should be technically possible,
leaving her body to reap souls,
is completley scientificaly impossible,
she does not rest upon this philosophical predicament,
instead she reaps the souls, of the new the young... the old,
and when day lighte strikes its chord, she returns to the life,
where living has a price,
where she isnt the grim reaper,
she is just a student,
angsty and glaring at the back of a teacher,
sending death threats his way,
and praying for the nights magic,
to come and sweep her away.