Bleeding Out

A red wet face slowly humming out the air in full lungs through a narrow throat to spread all the pain across satin surfaced water, watching her illusory skin ripple away as i weep for every part of her spirit that wasn't birthed into full existence

soft, captivating whispers of her soul swept away with the winter wind too quickly when i desperately needed a secret to warm my hands over

the distant drumming heartbeat of not only her's but all of love's vessels that miscarried, the pain still deeply felt of losing that which was nurtured for so long, shaped and reshaped with hope, the fire fanned with tindered passion that was being gathered perpetually on raw worn feet, watching flames turn to embers but even as I fed her and breathed life in the rain would not let up, this is not supposed to be the way it goes, no no NO this isn’t right, I haven’t found the kindling I need please just give me more time, but the rain marched on coldly and the smoke went up and not a single bolt of lightning struck on that dark and unforgiving night

The violence of nature killing swiftly with enchanting style, it is cruel and stunning, wiping a tear with the same hand that stole, those moments ripe with ringing silence after the carnage, bitten into by one brave bird calling out a question answered by the rest of the awaiting choir that begins to sing again, as this is all they can ever do to seal the panging quiet sadness, welcoming back the serenity to gather around as the bones are picked clean

Fateful days hard to bare with open eyes, they well up then run clear and the blurred images of the remains are burned like a brand into my memory

and yet I return to the bones again and again

and kneel and I stare and I scream

Anger and sadness battling it out inside my windpipe until I struggle to get the air in to make a single sound

Reliving the moments that I felt innocence ripped away from me, a stillborn hope delivered with no note attached, just left naked and alone with no direction home

In this state a wild tormented laughter rises up from echoing depths, a sudden draft of cold air passes against my skin demanding that I rise to my feet with a rare respectable urgency, the kind that is felt when the ground is shaking and the power of choice is vibrating out of your chest and into your body as you move toward the only way out of this now desecrated place

Running away from me some wolfpup is wandering off with one of the bones to gnaw on and I smile, a spotlight then appears brightly above melting the pain off of my selfishness in thinking I was alone with all this space just to mourn a life unknown, I stop to throw the rest of the fractured pieces in every direction to nourish this eternal stage that I was invited to walk across

And finally in my frenzy the first bloom unfurls almost too coyly, as if it was supposed to be obvious to me, they all begin to show their faces spreading their petals out to surrender to this burning truth, sadistic artists fighting for their lives, their silent teaching in being, the futility of praise and critique cast upon these deaf, true beasts of glory

Who am I to applaud or scorn this unfathomable tragedy, lived a million times over every moment, and so now it is me struck down, let someone be wise enough to know the pieces must be scattered... what will be showing this Spring? I wonder as I look down to watch the blood drain out

I will be the May Queen with a front row seat