Month: April 2020

In white she appears, taking his breath, 
though in truth he’d lost it a century before.  
Her, he’d lost 
seven plus 
      forty plus 
one hundred days ago.
A hero’s death, though it matters not.

She stands small, weary from her journey, 
her hands torn and bloodied. No one guesses 
how they got so damaged, but he knows, 
having fought the same battle back from the grave.

He is tender, soothing her wounds with 
Mercurochrome and gauze, the only one 
she can feel tortured with. He knows torture, 
having dished out and taken his share.  

Her sadness spills from his eyes and he 
slams his hand. In his dreams, he’d saved her. 
But despite strength, despite promises, despite 
love, she died.  

I’m fine, she lies, struggling to make it 
from one moment to the next. Her secret, 
she shares only with him. She can’t let 
her friends know what she’s lost.

She was in paradise, not purgatory, 
ripped back into a world of darkness 
by those who claim their love. 
Now they expect her to be happy.  

But what is happiness to a soul 
that’s been at peace? Can a story, 
once complete, begin again?