Danse Macabre

I stepped into the ballroom, with my body completely sewed into a velvet red dress

Tonight my purpose is to dance with Death

I always catch his eyes, he likes the light in my eyes and he expresses he wants to be the one to completely dim them down.

I’ve danced with him a couple of times

And each time, as we dance, I find myself infatuated with his poetry and his rhymes

Death always makes my loud intrusive thoughts sound less messed up

He gets me and I feel safe, I wrap my arms around his neck and he brings me in to dance closer to him

He tells me my unstable coping mechanisms are music to his ears, he tells me I’ll be beautiful forever if I take his hand and there will be no more tears.

As he makes me spin I begin to get dizzy, he says he can hear how willing I am to call out to him. He loves that I don’t fear him like most mortals do.

As we dance around the room, the orchestra piece begins to decrescendo, he asks one last question before our dance meets its end…

“You can have one last dance, if you’re ready to give up your soul for eternity”

I take his hand once again

And decisively dance my way to my own death.