The fire has run its course
And the pioneers are rushing to fill up the void
Where the ashes are still growing cold.

I haven’t forgotten the smoke
Or the pain or the loss or the terrible cost
Of the wretched pale finger I hold.

In time there will grow things anew
More fodder for fire, for nothing can stay
Undisturbed, in this world that I built.

I will pick at the cracks once again
I will cut off my limbs and bathe in gasoline
Just to stop this terrible guilt.

With god as my witness I lie
Pretend to be dead and rot in my bed
Be the nothing I ought to have been,

And over again, the spark
Will catch to the timber. And there I will linger
In the background, with a matchbox, unseen.

They had rushed to find me, suspecting,
But they couldn’t be sure
No more than I.
For though my purpose was clear, I was thwarted on every turn
First by my legs, which failed me
Then by others, flocking to the same place but a different end
And finally, 10 meters from my objective
My mind gave up.

And so I wandered, entranced and enraptured,
From exit to entrance and exit again.
Around me sounds blurred
To a grey rushing river —
I saw little
Only my feet as on I trod
To some ineffable finality.
Who can say?

For the next hour found me sat
A rock in an ocean of people
Drawing glances and glares
From the sympathetic and busy,
My eyes fixed onwards
Seeing nothing, and my body
Exhausted, frozen, dead.

There they found me, my guardians, my stewards
My poor beloved
I could not even thank them when they did.
Tears streaming down the face of one,
And fear streaming down the other
They took me, and held my broken person
And whisked me to safety.
I could not thank them.
I could not tell them what happened
Nor why
I loved them, and every atom of me
Ached to tell them so
And yet
It would not come.

Still I sat, gaze unyielding
Body unmoving
As my saviours, now themselves
Safe, erupted.

At 9 pm I take my meds
In one quick shot,
And they kick in too quickly,
And my heartbeat is slowing to a stop.

And so I grip my own hand
In an act of self solidarity,
And my mind begins to dance
To a sinister tritone
Of bleeding eyes, and dead eyes, and rot.

With one quick slash I cure my hand.
With agonising strokes I fix my leg.
And I lay back with pride
As red tears stream
From red faces, bright smiles
Laughing
Wide on my skin.

There you are, my love, my bane —
My everything —
You whisper sweetly in my ear,
Brush your lips to my cheek,
Dripping venom,

And into my side
You stab your claws —
Black, clean and pretty
And now silver, rusting red.

And you lead me to the window
So I follow the night breeze to a ledge
To a gate
To nothing more than a change of state.

The stars are whispering sweetly
In my ear,
In attentive scrutiny they stand.
Unchanged shall they watch
As below them I shall live
or I shall not.

Collapsed on a reasonably uncomfortable couch
I’m ok. I’m just tired. I had a long night.
My arms are going numb, slowly, my hands are beginning to tremble as I draw out my vice
I’m a spectator. I had a long night
My eyes will not focus, my face has gone pale and the space in front of me has begun to blur
I woke up at 7 today. I had a long night

I’m being called, there are voices rushing around me but never penetrating the whirlpool
It’s been two years. This should be over
I thought it was over

And now the spiral has begun.

I’m drowning, there are invitations to lunch that pass me by, an irregular tic toc beating me further into stupor
‘You ok’
I cannot answer. I don’t know how, and if I did my lips have betrayed me and as I try to quell any worry all I can muster is an incomprehensible mumble
Tears now. In public. I don’t have the presence of mind to feel ashamed. I’m disappointed, though, with my inability to hold myself. This ought to be over, I ought to be ok.

I need some space. I need to leave before I’m asked again. My limbs begrudgingly obey me and I just barely manage myself out the door. I’m invisible, I would hope
No more invisible than I’ve ever been

It’ll be over in an hour.
Then will come the explanations. The mere thought plunged me in again. I can’t explain this. I don’t know how.

And an hour later I find myself alone in a courtyard, in their rain, a trembling cigarette and red eyes, still staring
It’s over now

everywhere is the smell of you.
its not unpleasant. the *****
offends the nose, i will admit,
but you can hardly be blamed,
and everything else is fine,
and you are doing ok.
i love you, i love you, we said that
a lot. and that’s ok! for we are
friends. and friends love one another.
if i’m honest my memory is hazy.
i know i tried to  help you —
held back your hair,
kept you upright,
walked you back to the safety of home,
and held on to you.
it was silly of course,
i knew you would be fine,
but god knows a very
loud part of me could not
bear to see you like that.
in any case, you’re ok now, and that
is All That Matters.

there’s nothing to analyse here.
i know there’s nothing at all to see,
to notice, but i haven’t stopped trying.
because i know i love you —
i knew it so clearly then, and
i know it just as clearly now.
i can’t help but wonder if that’s it.
do i love my friend, my best friend,
the best friend i could ask for
or is there something else at play
here, something i’ve locked away,
something more intense.
i don’t want to believe it.
so i focus on the i love you
because i know it’s true.
i feel it so clearly and so strongly,
more colourful than anything else i’ve felt
in years. i love you, and i know you love me too
but nonetheless i will lie
awake and ashamed
of the vast realm of possibilities
for hidden meanings to those words
i drunkenly slurred to you that night.
i will have to keep looking
under the surface of that i love you.

Little little scars
And bigger bigger
Blood on hand
Skin on skin
Face to face swimming
In blue pool eyes
Darker now

You called me
And I heard an abyss
How far for a tear drop
13 14 steps and a sheer drop
And you hit the bottom hard

Whisper in me
The hidden collapse of
Elephants
Eat you alive
You're a bleeding skeleton
Locked lying
Let me call the doctor
Let me go let me call the police
Let you go

You let go.

I met you last December
Under fire from snow
The same you suffered
Steps 3 2 1 steps
Ago
I met a mask
A persona
My barrier.

My blood beneath.

Smouldering
Stub at my fingertips,
You are the red sun among the white.
I fill the room with perfume and incense —
Still you challenge me
And pin me to the polished floor.
You cannot reach me underwater —
There only your scent lingers,
Rising with the steam
And lurking above me.

What strength would it take
To fling you to the ground
And crush you in one swift twist?

What coughing fit to ensue
When you, afraid
Proceed to maim my lungs?

It's you or me, pale finger —
One of us to be extinguished before our time.
One of us to read the signs,
And one of us to ignore them.
I lit you on a flickering candle,
Spilled ash and wax
Of a long, drawn-out ******.

Oh you
My little heartache, should only be two
Meters away from me.
I would have to cross your oceans
And battle under and over nature
And sit right by you
Still
You're only two meters away from me.

Oh God bless you, little heartache, I’m a wreck without you!
I’m alone now, holy chest pain, but a shade.
Can’t you see my lungs collapsing in?
Can’t you see my pebble eyes go dark?

To you,
My little heartache, oh what right have you
To look so beautiful sitting there,
Oh what right have you?
Alive in unassuming grace.
You’re only human yet
you’re more in every single way.

Oh God bless you, little heartache, I’m a wreck without you!
I’m alone now, holy chest pain, I'm ashamed.
Can’t you see my lungs collapsing in?
Can’t you see my pebble eyes go dark?

God by you, little heartache:
I'll fall back to the ground.
Nary a gravestone to mark my words
Never a funeral to forget my flaws.

Oh you were good to me
My only heartbreak
Now go be good to someone else.

Abed, dark, and at night,
In some God-ungodly
hour of morning.
There am I underwater,
Drowning,
watching stars explode.

                        Everything is
falling away.
                        Everything is
crumbling away.

Before me, my own life;
Out snuffs the candle,
Wax on the floor.
Burnt or unburnt
Eternities
Which do you prefer?
                        And what a difference
would it make?
                        I am one empty candle
all the same.

Everything is falling away,
                        Everything is falling away,
Out snuffs the candle
                        by whom I could not say
This is my candle –
                        — Just an empty candle, all the same!
And oh what a difference it’d make!
I’ll be dragged to the nothing whence I came!
Everything will crumble away
And the void will have its way.

The grey clouds opened up for it.

Mikhail Morozov
Sat in a foetal position.
Pale eyes —
Empty spotlights
From which Oblivion stared.

Ri Seul-ki
Atop a podium, flung sparks.
"Flee not to your burrows,
Rabbits" —
But Oblivion took hold.

Christian Franklin
Rubbed his hands with glee.
God's fire and fury
Sprung from his fingertips.
Oblivion smiled.

Sofia Garcia
Smiled into her morning coffee.
She sighed, and typed
The very last word.
And that was when Oblivion struck.

I think I'll lie underwater
for a few years.
Wake me
when the world is
no longer a prison.

I want to lie among the stars
for as long as they will have me
and watch the greatest battles
and sleep
alone
for eternity.

"Escape this point, this path, this plane
and fly to the land of Goddownly Nosewear.
Lie above all existence,
bend reality to your will,
my child",
            ʃe said,
"You are too great for this world."

I think I'll take a bath
and lie underwater for a few minutes.
Wake me
when the kettle has boiled.

Atelic
I live on —
The present is nothing more than an endurance test;
The brief pauses are past participles
The only respite.
They are done.
I dare not look at the future
The irrealis construction —
Longing, hopeful moods that will ultimately accomplish
Nothing.

A shot.
Better yet, several — well-aimed and carefully chosen to hit me
when I least expect it. I don’t know how many.
They come from every which where
and strike me dumb.
My reaction time is pitiful.
First
the gradual realisation that I am indeed injured,
Then
the quick spiral, the panic, the *****  —
                  the blood never ceases to shock me
— and twitching legs, light dimming, eyes
robbed of character,
the gates shut.

I am but ruins, an anaphora
an empty, broken-down bookcase.

Half an eternity later,
I am returned.
I always am;
To the same battlefield, the same blood spattered wall,
the same cruel game where I am little more than a target.
Or
perhaps I am the idiot who runs
Oblivious
Into the crossfire — Who knows?
Pain is the only certainty.