My Betrothed

a poem

Death. I think of you often do you know      
      That you live in my thoughts as often 
as He, and she, and he, and them, and the unknown future
      slowly becoming known, and that place 
where bliss is not a fleeting kiss but an eternal
      passion— ever present. 

Death. I think of you, I truly do, as much as I do.
      Do you know, you are poignant in my mind,
on days where the only good
       I look up to is sleep and food.
And you creep into my thoughts at my happiest,
      leaving me distraught. Do you know? 

I am young, and I shan’t be for long. So allow me
My good days in peace, my bad days in gloom. 
I have accepted you for what you are, for you are;
      Death, my destined betrothed.