Out of the blue, into the black

The blueish ink stained the sand

Even under the cover of the eternal nothingness of night.

The wind bit at my ears. frigid ghost hounds.

Trying to take the last bit of flame I held onto in the night.

The waves killing themselves on the sand l

leaving their bubbly white corpses to drown back in the black abyss

The sand retained the daylight

Etching it’s warmth into my veins.

The fire sparked with dying life,

It knew its fate of the infinite blackness that would consume it when it had no use.

People worked their words with warm yellow clouds

Holding onto normality of the human condition.

I was wrapping myself in flesh-bound bone chains

My own black bleeding into my every frozen breath.

The question “are you alright?” it had no answer

No answer I could give while satisfying my own moral complexity of truth.

I was just lost in a death spiral after being autopsied by my own family.

When my bleeding became real for my diamond eyes.

Their eyes held some kind of revolting pity for them

As though they were children who didn't understand the concept of good and bad.

They didn’t understand the barbwire noose they had weaved for me.

They couldn’t understand the sarin gas bomb that my brain had become.

I got up, walking into the blinding darkness wishing to be lost in time

Where only those curious eyes who started out from their yellow windows would see

The sand bending against my empty shell

The wind tearing through my one cottoned comfort

Till sound was reduced to whistling and a thousand tiny rocks jumbling around

And I could carry my eyes with nothing but humanities silence.

I looked back to a life I wished I could abandon

Just to return a moment later my emotions shattered so that only nothingness remained.

The stray dog returning to his vengeful gods once again.