Jan 08

fading as we kill

when i reach for you, the world
just starts spinning again, like i have
been pushed out of focus, like i always am.

am i looking at you, or am i
just dreaming again? my body is numb
as the lights flood my vision, your
hands leaving bruises on my conscience. 

suddenly, this was a crime scene, and i 
am running with your blood on my hands.
one of us must always fall, after all. 

you have never met me, you have never
seen me, but you are here apologizing
anyways, or so say my eyes.
(i don’t trust them much, but don’t tell them)

i can’t hear you, darling, 
the ringing is too loud. has there always
been such a loud ringing in my ears,
or is it your voice?

this is a crime scene,
i remember running, blood on
my hands, blood on my skirt.

i don’t care, right now all i care
is about saving you. who did this,
my love. 

i don’t think i know you.
why is there so much blood on my hands?

the music swells through my body,
and suddenly 
(so suddenly)
the wetness on my face dries,
and my features are stone, like cement
left out in the sun.

i can’t move, but i am running,
and there is blood all over me. 

why am i bleeding?