This Relationship Has Turned Into A Game Of Keep-Away Poem by Paige Nielsen

It is you who needs to evanesce, not I.
Your mirrored perspective is infectious,
nauseating.
You’d strangle me under the mistletoe,
if only I would swim close enough to bite.
But I’ll keep my distance—
what you’ve got is catching.
Keep me out of your black-widow trends,
else death and ruin will come to you
on swift wings in the thirteenth hour.
Voodoo dolls will be laughing at your misfortune—
a nocturne, a requiem, your shrillest death-scream.