Ode To - by Lydon Colston - Year 2

So Harry's laptop charger didn't get fixed and I'm stepping in! This is my attempt at confessional poetry so be brutal guys like I want savage feedback okay?

Ode to Tvedt

Cold hands,
Whiskey stained,
Tighten their grip
On an angry throat.

Sharp rocks,
Near the Sunken Ships,
Block his exit
And bruise his back.

Wet blond hair,
Hung over lustful eyes,
paralyze the body
more than the murderous grasp.

His will to live,
Masking his desire to die,
is conveyed by feeble attempts
at clawing his way free.

In pale grey eyes,
Hollow from the Vodka,
The lustful eyes saw
the flashbacks of a friend.

To lose his companion,
Would hurt more than death,
even if by the hands
that once held him through the pain.

But fate had intervened,
as a saviour arrived,
he gasped for breath
and wished that he had died.

He fakes his anger,
pretending hatred when nearby,
but still he misses his friend
who nearly took his life.