Well, this is it.

The end.

I was excited for this part.
I dreamt of it.
I dreamt of me standing on the garden
Where the flowers had bloomed so bright
And the sun shining down on me
I had my chin held up high
And my shoulders wide.

But nothing goes my way.

I’m standing in the garden
The garden that was full of flowers and colors,
Now I see it covered with dead bodies and blood
I can feel the lost souls around me
Trying to find another body to feed on
Then I see a girl
I can hear her crying and sobbing
I run to her
She turns around when I reach her

“I remember you.
I was just like you.
I was you.
I am you.”
The girl said with her tiny, squeaky voice.

My body couldn’t move
My mind couldn’t process anything else
I wanted to say something
But I couldn’t.

“Who are you?” my voice trembled
“I don’t know.” She whispered.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“You brought me here.”

I raised my hand to touch her
She does it too.
When our fingers meet,
Memories came flooding back

What… is.. this..
I…. don’t… know.. what’s… going… on….

I find myself on my knees
In pain from those memories
She disappeared
I sit there and think
Oh, the love.
The happiness.
The Joy.
The Faith.
The pain.
The tears.
The scars.
I remember them now.

I remember telling a guy I loved him
And crying because he didn’t say it back
I remember the hugs that were so tight
That I couldn’t breathe but were so comfy
I remember the car rides back home
And we would laugh our stomachs off even when nothing was funny
I remember the paper works and the sleepless nights
I remember the stupid fights that I would have with my parents
I remember being so naïve and young that every guy was the best guy in the world.

Did all this lead me to this mess?
What did I do?
This was the end.
And I can’t change the end.

We are not warriors yet.
We still gaze at stars
that predate the dawning
of time - heaven-sent
crumbs bowing to Earth.

This is all that becomes of us.

Our bodies will explode.
We will chase the other off
shadows nursing our blood.
Moonlight will ground whispers
into long-drawn screams.

We, reduced to streaks.