monument

Drowning in the mezzanine, flagrant and vicious, this time I'll light the fuckin' flames myself
A storm inside a bottle, oil and water forced to mix, we watch the sunset burn
The fields are a fire, yet no smoke licks from the flames
Everything becomes mundane, powerful, and peacefully alone
For once, life is simply existing, treating its wounds no more

The air moves with you, rather than against
The smell of cut wood
Sounds of familiarity even though it's the first time you've heard them
Watching everything bleed down a beautiful painting
"What a good place to die," you think to yourself.
But there is no coffin, and this will not be your dnouement
Simply another breath, a long inhale, long enough to fill the body

The summer air
Un-kept grass beneath the soles of the feet
And if you stand there long enough
Ants will crawl over you like you're simply roots from a tree