Horcrux

Whenever someone I love dies a part of me goes with them.

Sometimes I wish I could leave this world and go with em’.

It’s like I need their souls here with me so I can thrive.

It hurts knowing they’re no longer here and not alive.

My lifelines are passing away and with every final breath

I feel like I too am standing at the door of death.

I grieve alone as I breathe alone and no one feels me.

Sometimes I stalk the reaper asking him when will he kill me.

My thoughts turn suicidal as I sit with tears in my fists.

Yet I don’t have it in me to cut my own throat or slit my wrists.

I’m not that brazen and sometimes I feel like I’m that daring.

When another life perishes it’s like I turn more uncaring.

My horcruxes. Like Harry Potter’s enemy they cling me to life.

But when they parish I look at the ground and all I see is a bloody knife.

My mother, my grandparents, my aunt. I’ve put them all in the ground.

Heartbroken because they’re no longer here. When I cry no one hears a sound.

It’s like I’m losing myself to the flesh of the world.

It turned me into a ghoul when it took all my lifeline pearls.

This isn’t just poetry it’s how I’ve really been feeling.

It’s like I’m deteriorating. Not much left of me healing.

My horcruxes. It’s like I don’t have many left.

How many more have to perish before it’s me who meets death?