Back In September.

     The world started in darkness. While people saw light at the end of their tunnels I didn't, I couldn't. I walk the train tracks on a crisp morning, I've lost track of time, it doesn't matter to me now, it never truly did but I was made to care.
Back then when I was made to care I had dreams for my future, a future I will never get to fulfill nor see. I saw fame and success in my sickly brain.
Now there's a slight buzz always sounding in between my ears, in a bittersweet sense it brings a little comfort nothing else gives me, not since the past really left me. Back in September.
Back in the past I had family, friends, and people who weren't blank canvases. My mother used to say you can make beautiful masterpieces with enough effort and time out of  blank canvases, was she wrong? Or am I just so destructive that those blank canvases turnt into sculpted hellfires?
As I walk along the tracks I think back to when things were okay, Back in September.
My childhood is mostly filled with choir practices, shitty holidays, and humbling discussions, but he changed everything.
I loved him, I did. But he had other feelings about me.
We were two birds on an electrical line, people would drive past us and not think about it another second. Until he met her.
He had life in his eyes when he was with her, I guess I'm truly the reaper, aren't I? Maybe that's why I killed him. Back in September.
He flew off that electrical wire, but I, I STAYED!
I WAITED FOR HIM TO GET UP, I WAITED FOR THE BLOOD TO SLOWLY CREEP BACK INTO HIS BODY, IT NEVER DID. HE  JUST, JUST, LAYED THERE.
I don't remember a lot after September.
But that's okay, I don't want to. As I walk to the end of the tracks my ears finally hear it, The train.
For the first time in my life I smile a real smile, I turn towards the raring engine and opened my arms up in welcome. Maybe I'll go to heaven, maybe hell.
I just want to go
Back to September.