My Mister Poem by Amanda Larsen

The forgotten nightmare's gentle smack
The longing for a dance
With the Mister dressed in black
Take my cold white skeleton hand
And lead me to the moonlit dance floor
My head is spinning as in trance

Mister with your fingers on my waist
Your eyes remind me of the oldest horror story
I tasted sweetness in your gentle steady way
I tasted memories of long-forgotten glory

Come on and swing me, Mister, I am letting go
And I am swimming, mister, why are you not drowning?
Was this your teardrops, Mister, or the ones you stole?
You look so pretty, Mister, in the way you're bowing

My Mister is a friend I knew before I met you
So you must leave tonight, we want to be alone
And I will find you in the morning like I left you
‘Cause in the morning every dropp of him is gone

He is a better dancer than you and he's always quiet
He only comes when I have missed enough to love
And I will hate him
But tonight
He is my lover and my knight
He is the coin that someone threw from up above

I do not know if it's a sickness that I carry
I do not care enough to try and figure out
I only know that there are nights
I throw you out and let you doubt
And only mister is allowed to take a bite

Don't worry dear, I will not bleed
With mister here there is no need
I only need another dance
‘Till every mirror that I glance
Will show my eyes
The color they are meant to be

Please
Do not envy Mister; he's a part of my soul
He is a writer and a teardropp and a friend
I find me missing those cold fingers in the end
Sometimes he comes and leaves a scar that takes me home
Some nights I really only want to be alone