We ran outside to see the them. A huge flock fluttered deep in the sky.
A demon sea cried beneath them. The waves claimed a few. Cry for the birds.
The sun then exploded. Kick me some cool water out your bath, sweet bird. Die in inferno, and wake up wishing you hadn't.
Mother cried over her sins. It's the sound she makes when her little fingers break.
Red fire birds, crying flame tears. The flyers are all on fire.
We hate real dreams.
(Janitors cry the best.)
We hate what we love. A dead bird arrived, still aflame and clinging to its instincts. Ate my skin.
Forgive me, sweet bird. I've pissed in your fountain.
Only the useless are sweet. Lean on a tree and let it grow around you. I don't want to see you anymore.
And I lie there and die. I watch the sun sink into the horizon. Amazing. I pray for one more.
Thoughts rot away when you die.
I still had one left. I thought of her eyes. That girl, god, you could see the universe in those eyes.
My own personal parallel universe to escape into, to get lost in, or to wait for.
My head fell to the left. Those eyes were still there, but the universe had left. Entropy is a bitch.
I crawled a bit. One last hug for my poor soul. Death doesn't squeeze back.
Trees were falling in my forest, but only I could hear them. That made me chuckle.
So I turned to my back. I hoped and regretted and hated and waited. When it came, I wasn't aware.
In the end, he still died. Hope only helps the lucky. He pulled open those heavy lids for one last glimpse, but the dust burned his poor eyes.
It was worth the effort.
A million breezes blew by.
The marionettes filed through, and one kicked at him.