#chachou

-Ice skating Kirby -

How do you leave for something you know you will not come back the same from?

It’s a genuine question, one I have absolutely no idea how to answer. I always have the semblance of an answer, or a reflexion, and I probably would have something to say if I weren’t the one asking, the one dreading.

It’s like leaving for death row and picking a last meal, enjoying a last bit of comfort before the electric waves shock through your body frying you up better than that sweetest mother’s homemade breaded chicken.

How do you walk to that room, what do you say to the guards announcing you the news, the letter condemning you to endlessness?

How do you sit at that table, pick up the fork and pierce through the tender meat? How do you chew? Does the grease and salt end up bittersweet?

Do they have flavor at all? Do you wash your hands and wipe your mouth? Do you brush your teeth? Does the simmering bacteria feast harder than ever through your rotting enamel one last time? Do you cry? Do the tears fall in your Coke, do the air bubbles popping and stinging your throat foreshadow your aftermath?

Do you think of it as your last braincells turn off?

Do you cry?

How do you leave for something that will forever change you?

How do you carry the cross? Do you look at the scenery at all? Is your brain the same once you resuscitate?

I can feel the splinters digging in me already as I stare at it. The impending doom dawns on me like the early morning breeze. I dread my last supper, I know my death approaches and I know I’ll arise once again forever changed, with holes I’ll never fill, fissures that will never heal, lungs that will never breathe

Again,

How do you live for something that will never again live too?

How do you accept to live blue, do you ever again get nights you can sleep through?

Can you ever again say you’re alive and be true?

As you inhale the dead leaves,

Do you feel the cigarette smoke killing you?I can’t see through the mist over the sea side

I can’t break through this tide as bloody as my fists

I didn’t see the endgame coming

And as I hang on this cross I’m terrified by this death kiss

The clock ticks resonate through me, the upcoming silence cries and shouts louder than a thousand missiles

How does it feel when your skin melts off from radiation?

How does it feel when it settles?

Do you ever hear the low buzz in the dead of night

How do you leap through the fire that will forever burn you?

How do you deal with the flames forever inhabiting you?

If you put it out, do you go out too?

How do you live through something you know you will not come back the same from?

How can I do it without you?