I caught the scent of leaving like red staining a hunting trail.
behind, screams that burned silent.
ahead, a sky not meant for me.
standing on a knifepoint – you say the name that stops the bleeding.
stinging palms hold their secrets, and love’s not a trusting game.
you stood guard, eyes closed.
I buried myself with the tracks.
don’t follow the shouting – an echo only knows the way down.
the rain makes its thunderous promises to dry mouths.
we believe when we can’t see the sky.
we forget when we can’t see the ground.
there’s no magic here – it’s just our fear making faces of the dust.