Author: Thorn's-girl PM
sleep, dear.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Drama - Words: 264 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 11-05-06 - Status: Complete - id: 2272060
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
It fades and bleeds and looks a lot like you.
I wonder if you could talk if the skulls painted on your eyes would listen
Perhaps one day they'll invent a machine that lets the damned laugh again
Perhaps one day they'll invent a painless way to relieve guilt.
Accident and guilt are not so very different
Accidents happen all the time
Guilt hovers like a cloud of blackened breath beneath the ozone layer
Guilt is the ozone layer
Lack of conscience eating away at is, baring the poles.
You never meant the words you said
The words that pinned her to the floor and tied puppet strings to her hands
So that when they found her the next morning she was holding the gun.
Still holding it.
As if she couldn't let go of that last memory of you
That last pitiful shred.
You took and took and took and she took too.
You cried when they told you.
Of course you cried.
The damned always know the end of salvation.
Now you've gone and left your car on in the garage
Breathing in your dose of carbon monoxide
They'll call it tragic
But you had no dying grace.
They found you.
I found you.
An anonymous call and they came with flashing lights and stretchers.
Guilt and accident.
Think about her in your clean, white hospital bed.
Think about her when you breathe through your poisoned lungs.
I painted skulls on your eyelids while you slept.
Ironic what happens when your eyes are closed;
Death comes walking.