I took your pastel veins
and interlaced them with my cordial fingertips
I knew you were hurting
I could feel how fragile your life was in that moment
Like paper
-Creases for the martyr
Your bones have grown brittle and cold from the tainted oxygen hovering amidst our sorrow
And heartache is your closest friend
Like a pastel painting on a smoke stained canvas
Edges worn, color bleeding
Bleeding
-A work of art for the martyr
I feel your agony through your skin
Your eyes are tired and dwindling
Time, I know has not been on your side
I know
-No time for the martyr