Hatchet to the Head; Chapbook 17
Death Suit You
To write about you almost pains me,
Not in the good way,
Of missing and longing for your warmth.
In the way I hope you burn in hell for eternity,
Feel the torment you caused me,
I could blather on.
You are not worth the energy.
I’m letting you go in the abyss.
Forgotten.
Lost to time.
You remain unchanging,
As grow toward the sun.
Your death suits me.
Dust to dust,
Ashes to ashes,
You final form drifting away in the wind,
Your death suits you.
-Ellis Wells
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