Beauty has a way of spilling itself onto the street
Seeping into the cracks of a well tread road...
...or heart
Emotion in every drop
falling...
...falling...
...falling
The impact on the ground is nothing...
But on the soul it's crushing
Life has a way of getting lost
Or taken...
Ruby showers as he fell
And rendered me unclean
And himself
Lifeless...
Perhaps a bit of myself died right along with him
Or
Perhaps a bit of my soul was set free as well
What was he thinking when he fell?
What was he thinking when he looked up at me with those eyes
Once so full of anger, concern, and life
Slowly slipping away as the pool formed around his neck?
What was I thinking?
His breathing stopped as he accepted the fate I laid out for him.
His heart; Soon after.
.
.
.
Life is such a valuable thing
I did not take it out of want or greed,
I simply needed to.
It was simple;
Him
or
Me
It was beautiful
.
His blood is on my hands
No matter how often I wash
I can't get it out...
Can't get clean...
But maybe I like it that way...
...Maybe.
I remember the look in his eyes...
It was, above all else, fear.
He didn't want to go
He didn't want to die
And all I wanted to do was comfort him...
...Tell him that everything was going to be okay...
...but at that point
it would have been more for myself.
It was beautiful
The way he looked up at me
His emotion was so raw and unclouded
His passion for life was eminating from him
And running through me
Love for life, I've found, has a funny way of making itself known
In death.
Beauty has a way of showing itself in the ugliest ways
Spilling itself onto a street...
Gasping for air...
Gripping for life...
Perhaps a bit of myself died right along with him...
Or
Perhaps something new came to be
It was beautiful...
It was beautiful...
Copying this work to another webpage without author permission is plagiarism.
Plagiarism is a misdemeanor, usually punishable by fines of $100-$50000 and up to one year in jail.
Comments on Arterial Spray