Poem: A Confession - A Night At The Reeper's House

note: something personal. dont ask, i wont explain. my last couple posts were pure angst, sorry about that.
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I watched your spiral,
Never joining in,
A prescription for pain,
The hallucinogens.

A bathroom floor,
Made the perfect bed,
For a fallen angel,
To rest her head.

The cold was biting,
Foggy windows & headlights,
Typical of the mountain nights.
You stopped & told me
"Wait at the car",
So grown up,
And gone so far.

Outside the house,
Of the reeper,
The devil,
The dealer,
I waited.
And waited.
And waited.

It felt like ages,
But it wasn't long,
Before shots were heard,
From The Reeper's gun.

I left "your" car,
Ran home through the woods,
And I waited again.

I waited 'til spring,
They finally reported,
So far down stream,
The angel had floated.

Down a river,
Without a name,
With a clenched handful,
Of The Reeper's mane.

They laid you to rest,
In a bed of white clover,
Number twelve-forty-eight,
My waiting was over.

I mourned you in secret,
The girl with no name,
No one knew it was you;
No one came.
No one cared.