Half-moons turn to full as my eyes flutter open
The white hot light is disorienting.
My fingernails are the first thing I notice
They’re clean.
Clean has been distant for months.
My hair is combed and cut
And I’m all wrapped up in ivory.
But they forgot to bandage my memory.
It’s still oozing and crusted with sickening pain.
And I can remember their cries and angelic faces still.
And then they turned empty,
Like those grown-ups who used to putter around on Mondays.
At least they’ve got hunger for life now.
And as these trailing thoughts leave my mind,
I remember that I’m not alone.
Not all was lost after that apocalyptic crisis,
Where all I’ve ever known turned to a rotting, dead end.
His face will be forever embedded in my mind.
He and I made it out.
We were plucked out of the ground like two white roses in a field of weeds.
Saved like two animals for Noah’s Ark.
We, are all that’s left of origin,
All that’s left of our kind.
So before it was too late,
They rescued our scorned skins.
And we flew up into that blue sky,
And we just left them there.
We left that fair skinned freckled boy,
That lanky knobby kneed kid,
And that dark haired round eyed little girl,
We left everyone that ever was.
God.
I wish there was.
He’d breathe us in and never let go.
Never let those demons touch us.
Never let them sink their rotted teeth into her tiny neck.
Those fuckers.
Limping around seeking blood,
Looking for lives to demolish.
If you’re reading this now
I hope you’re not running from rotted versions of your friends,
I hope you’re sitting at home on your plush pillowed sofas
Puttering around on Mondays.