A Girl Named Death

Death colored outside the lines.
She broke down the door instead of knocked.
She laughed loudly in the library and skinny-dipped in the sunshine.
She starved herself and shaved her head.

Death comforted the cutters with her lullabies.
Her eyes framed a movie you knew would break your heart.
She told you about human rights abuses and starving children.
Meeting Death made you different.

Death grieved like she had been the one abused.
She laughed like life was beautiful.
She could play video games like no girl I had ever met
And she bungee jumped to get a better perspective.

Death didn't take things for granted.
She kissed like it was the last time she ever would.
She said sleep was the best escape
And the best bed was matted grass.

Death told me ugliness was a state of mind.
She was a ghost and her thoughts were transparent as water.
Her wrist read "Death is peaceful"
As if proving it to herself.

And one time she packed up all eight of her suitcases.
She told me she was going to save the world.
I laughed.
I should not have laughed.