In the quiet of the night, darkness creeps, coldness flows, shadows ebb and pulse. In stillness I reside, heart racing with sweetest goodbyes. I lie prone as thoughts flood and pressure builds. Still and still, the deep red crush burns too deep. I knew it would be someday and someday is here.

Oh Christ, I desire.
Ache is cold clear through.
Chance gone, never was, never will be.
I begin the slow descent into disassociation
While hunger gnaws at tepid flesh.
I am weary with no need only want.

The sun set and upon that evening of my demise, the air stilled and the birds stopped in song. I was cold and alone and the dreamscape had left me.

The morning after dawned clear and bright. My eyes hurt, crusted, skin tight and bleeding red across the cool white sheets. Wind soft, against too warm flesh, damp and fevered, chilling fast. “No be’be’, is tha culebra, do not touch”. And I stopped, long, white, delicate, tapered fingers stilling mid air. Skin like parchment, veined blue. And prayed to Christ. I was turning already. His voice was smooth, slick like venom and sex and sleep. I turned and wept no tears, only dry sadness and shattered, flowing light. Too much, too bright, too clear to face. Emotions flooding with such pressure building. But He was gone – my dreams and hopes of future possibilities. Only lingering desires remained of a deep red crush and the cloy scent of memories too sweet to bear. I clung too desperately and soul deep. No use, I had already begun to turn from him and toward diversion. I knew it was time. Calculating, callous, usury, it was not me, but my cares left with Him. And it was time to move past completely, to wash his scent from my skin, from my heart.