14.Poem
Every day I pull Death
Every day I pull Death.
Every day, same as the last.
The universe keeps telling me
to let go of my past.
I shuffle the cards so vigorously
that my hands start to bleed.
A cut in the deck, a pull of a card,
and again, the Reaper proceeds.
No matter my will, the cards never heed.
No cleansing can shake this energy.
How do I let go
when I am the ghost haunting me?