Slowly decaying.

September.

Sapphire blue seas.

Purple aster fields.

Autumn leave streets.

A chill that will forever remain in my spine.

An execution I cannot undo.

I touched like Midas in reverse,

All gold turned to ruin in my palms.

I poured out a poor spore,

When I knew I was a mother,

I did not know it would end like this,

In September.

I did not know,

I would be sleeping spread eagle on my bathroom floor.

With my organs pooling out in,

Red scarlet marbles of my hymn.

I could only hear,

The disjointed disharmony,

Rising like cacophonies and pained symphonies,

In my eardrums.

Cold palms on my,

My abdomen,

Looking for a pulse,

Underneath the sapphire Pacific blue membranes.

I bowed my head,

I prayed.

With pins and needles,

Pried under my split fingernails.

While laying on the gurney,

Snapping rubber bands on my teeth.

Hands out,

Like being crucified.

I smelled the aster flowers,

In the field where you were...

And while the stiffening,

And rising of rosined violin reeds,

Were tightening around,

Like a thousand boa constrictors,

Around my autumn mind.

I heard you whisper to me,

'goodbye'.

Goodbye,

My daughter of darkness.

The two heartbeats,

Melting into a scorched like twin candle.

Collapsing,

Crimson towers.

Solemn skyscrapers,

Draining into Atlantis.

This is an execution I cannot undo,

Too wicked,

Too frigid,

To harbor the kindling wood of a little life.

The chill of the autumn breeze,

That will be forever in my spine.

Because the September embers,

Of the fire in my belly,

Has gone out.