untitled 6

a more experimental piece for you.

colour rating: orange

content warning: blood, injury and death, suggestions of murder and suicidal thoughts

———

EXT. A FOREST—DAY/NIGHT

sunrise:

i stand vigil. i keep vigil, i keep it and

he lies quiet. in the grass and the moss.

they cradle him. he deserves to be cradled—

there is an awful god looming on the horizon

and i don’t know how to stop it

sunset:

i watch as a pyre ignites and he screams

writhing like the snakes and the cold winds

i left far behind because i knew one day

they would betray me and hurt me

i look at the bandages i wrapped around his arms

and his torso. i watch them catch and burn

and an awful blackness rises in me

splitting me into two and then into a million

moss clings to his hair. i watch as it ignites too.

high-moon:

darkness leaks out of me, from my tear ducts,

from underneath my nails, from out of my nose

over where i stand, the earth turns black with my blood.

she rips it from me and i know i deserve it

i know i deserve everything coming to me

i have been awful

the ground is slick and black

flowers will not grow here.

sunrise:

there is nothing left of me.

i am pale and drained of life

i am a dead thing walking

i stare the indent in the moss and the grass

that tell of where he once lay,

cradled

it’s awful

i lay down in it

and hope to die

hope for deep, dark extinction

and i hope

no flowers will grow here either