Illusions

I placed a rose petal upon her blue lips.

Death was gorgeous.

Her name was Harley.

Now her name is Gone.

Her arms are painted red.

An x marks her cheek.

Her nails are already blackening with decay.

My eyes fluttered

Painful white sunlight

I am not Gone. I am not Harley.

I am hidden between the sheets.

My alarm clock is trilling.

The deathful beauty is gone.

At least on the outside.