blue as blood

how myths bleed from soul to soul and back again.

autumn bleeds into winter. hurried, slippery, time hungers its way towards the end.

the pulse slows. nothing matters like it should. our pedestals are out of reach, lost to places we swore to never return to.

nighttime shadows shoulder my guilt.

grief, sorrow, acceptance. the moon aches to take us under its spell.

i found you crying out in the cold. you were always leaving the window open, victim to night terrors at dusk.

go on, piece together this sorrow. whisper it softly into the novemeber air.

(early summer hid behind white clouds. a boy turned in front of the dresser, shirtless. his fingertips roamed across his skin for a weak point, a place for something to land. he spun and fired. imaginary, imaginary, imaginary. finger guns. his trembling form mimicked a passing thunderstorm. / you met him months later. or years before. / time stretches oddly under god’s sun. it’s all out of place. / in the maw of the forest, you crouched beside a corpse, warm to the touch. his your pale white eyes reflected back. / a message only heard by angels of catastrophe. you never got the rattle of radio static out of your head. / get out of this dream wake up wake up wake up.)

wailing underneath a blanket of snow, you were wild-eyed looking for rest. i couldn’t hold your gaze. the motor of your skeletal system was tearing you apart. i didn’t know, i didn’t recognize it yet.

all your paths were too destructive. all our paths are fatal. ashes to ashes, dust to dust. we’ll march our way out of all this… beyond the destruction.

life was at its smallest in that moment, and those that followed.

is anyone taking you home tonight? i left the window open. i’ll guide you. i’ll whistle in the wind until you come home.