I really don’t know why the sky bleeds
except that it means I am dead.

My grandma told me once that death is like
falling asleep and then you wake up in heaven.

But if this is heaven then why is everyone
covered in blood?

Perhaps she meant that death is like
bathing in the truth of yourself.

That it is pulling off your own skin
until you are nothing but a milky stone.

In that case I think
I have yet to cross the gate.

I am stuck
peeling off my skin forever.

But I’ll never truly know because
my grandma spoke in code and whispers.

She was my favorite ghost.