Cinerous Drops of November Rain.

Her eyes are glazed over, infused with pure white...
While her hands lay stiff, thrown down at her sides.
There's something on her forehead that's catching the light...
Maroon, and oozing rapidly as it slowly dries.

Bottle after bottle are strewn out on the floor...
And a chrome razor lays flat, dressed in pure white powder.
Caught between the wall and the crack of the door,
Lodged a handwritten note, stapled to a black flower.

It was wet with salty tears, and warm between my hands...
Providing the notion that it last touched a breath.
I opened the crinkled note, and there was only one message to scan:
"You can't run from me forever." Signed, Death.

I think there's something wrong with Melanie...
She's been resting there for days now, refusing to breathe.
The sight of her mangled body was anything but heavenly...
"Melanie hasn't been asleep; she's been dead for seven weeks."