4-4-10

I find myself slipping in and out of consciousness, out of reality.
They sky spoke, it said it missed me, our visits are much to far apart these days.
I touched a star, my hand is burned, bright red and blistered, but now anything I touch becomes beautiful.
I watched her jump, she told me she wanted to fly, and she turned to show me flimsy paper mache wings strapped to her back with bright red ribbon. She took a step, smiled, sighed, and was gone, feathers trailing for miles behind her as she soared through the clouds.
He took my hand and kissed my forehead, he said he felt my pain and wiped away the tears, when I should have been wiping away his.
My brain escaped, I watched it fall to the cement, it turned to a projector and I watched my memories play in the clouds. The sky wept for me.
He was pushed to the ground, they beat him, kicked him until he couldn't move, his face bled, a puddle forming beneath his head. Glitter flowed from his eyes, turning into the sea. The salt burned his wounds and the waves pulled him under, he was gone.
The wind blew her hair, her eyes watered, her soul escaped, she was free...


but no one is ever really free, are they?