Steamy mirrors
Dead fingers have written
Your time is coming
I wiped it away, my hand
Touching the space
Where death had written
My hand felt strange
Like touching an electric wire
Shaking my hand did no good
It began to itch
Running it under cold water didn’t help
The feeling grew along the length of my arm
The doctor could find no reason for it
The feeling lasted for two days
I found a site online
Under mystic messages
I read that I had touched my own death
I thought no more of it
For as we know, death waits for each of us
At 23 I felt I had time to do what I wanted
I was wrong, I did not reach my next birthday
now I write on steamy mirrors…
©anitadawes
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