and bury it before it buries me
Where does it hurt?
“I had to make sure you were okay.” It is what she had said to the man of obsidian, with a blanket of alabaster on his body. She had found him, or rather, he had found her, saved her, in just the knick of time as the rock slides crashed down the side of a mountain. At the time she had thought this a valid excuse for going out there into a mountain storm, for putting both of them in danger. Ask her today and Elena would say she had been foolish. “Where does it hurt?” She had asked him to, kissing his head, the bump that already emerged on the side of it. “Here?” She asked as she kissed it again. It was innocent brushes of her lips, she was too young for him, and he too old for her. It was innocent they both had said. She only wanted to soothe his pain, and he was only too willing to let her. They all have been far too willing.
“Where does it hurt?” She asks him, blue eyes wandering over his body. They were fighting, all of them. Bruises, cuts, sprains, concussions. She spots the blood and her heart flinches before releasing, and she expects the pang of empathy to find her, but there comes nothing. Nothing as she continues to stare at his wound like a child stares at strangers passing outside windows.
“You’re bleeding.” It is an obvious statement, she wants to offer him sympathy, wants to offer him her comfort, wants to offer some sort of emotion towards him, but the emptiness that sits in her heart, it covers everything else and so she can give him so little. She wonders, just for a second, if this is what it is like to die. No, not dying, Elena as felt something like that, has felt something so close. This, this is different, maybe it is what it is like to already be dead. “You’re bleeding,” she says again with more conviction, more emotion, whatever she can salvage against this blank wall of nothing. She lowers her head to his leg to inspect it.
It is that metallic smell, or maybe it is the sight of that bright crimson, or maybe it is the smile on his face. It is something, enough to bring her crashing through the wall of brick and mortar that let her feeling as emotionless as a stone. It passes and Elena finds her light once more. “I’m guessing it must be here,” she says, raises her head to him and looks at him, really looks at him. “I…” What was she going to say? The more she looks at him the harder it is to remember. “Sorry,” she stutters like rippling water. “What was I doing?” Forgotten, everything forgotten in the strangeness of him. Blood. His leg. She was—is a medic and he needs her help. She takes the gauze and holds it close to him. “Is this—is this okay?” She asks him. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” And Elena has always liked to think that when she makes a promise, that makes it true.
“I had to make sure you were okay.” It is what she had said to the man of obsidian, with a blanket of alabaster on his body. She had found him, or rather, he had found her, saved her, in just the knick of time as the rock slides crashed down the side of a mountain. At the time she had thought this a valid excuse for going out there into a mountain storm, for putting both of them in danger. Ask her today and Elena would say she had been foolish. “Where does it hurt?” She had asked him to, kissing his head, the bump that already emerged on the side of it. “Here?” She asked as she kissed it again. It was innocent brushes of her lips, she was too young for him, and he too old for her. It was innocent they both had said. She only wanted to soothe his pain, and he was only too willing to let her. They all have been far too willing.
“Where does it hurt?” She asks him, blue eyes wandering over his body. They were fighting, all of them. Bruises, cuts, sprains, concussions. She spots the blood and her heart flinches before releasing, and she expects the pang of empathy to find her, but there comes nothing. Nothing as she continues to stare at his wound like a child stares at strangers passing outside windows.
“You’re bleeding.” It is an obvious statement, she wants to offer him sympathy, wants to offer him her comfort, wants to offer some sort of emotion towards him, but the emptiness that sits in her heart, it covers everything else and so she can give him so little. She wonders, just for a second, if this is what it is like to die. No, not dying, Elena as felt something like that, has felt something so close. This, this is different, maybe it is what it is like to already be dead. “You’re bleeding,” she says again with more conviction, more emotion, whatever she can salvage against this blank wall of nothing. She lowers her head to his leg to inspect it.
It is that metallic smell, or maybe it is the sight of that bright crimson, or maybe it is the smile on his face. It is something, enough to bring her crashing through the wall of brick and mortar that let her feeling as emotionless as a stone. It passes and Elena finds her light once more. “I’m guessing it must be here,” she says, raises her head to him and looks at him, really looks at him. “I…” What was she going to say? The more she looks at him the harder it is to remember. “Sorry,” she stutters like rippling water. “What was I doing?” Forgotten, everything forgotten in the strangeness of him. Blood. His leg. She was—is a medic and he needs her help. She takes the gauze and holds it close to him. “Is this—is this okay?” She asks him. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” And Elena has always liked to think that when she makes a promise, that makes it true.
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Jask
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
