Opia

I've watched you pray to dead gods for years.
Dipping your dried flower petals in wax
as if they're worth preserving.

And you choke on the dust and dirt
From the rotting garden you dug and planted yourself
causing watery tears
you swear are for me

I’ve seen you smear your blood onto paper.
Gasping for air in your mind
as you turn the lock on a gilded cage.

And you scream and you mourn
the death of a life
you forgot to, never meant to;
live.

I’ve heard your condemnations of other’s sin.
Stirring red hot embers with your tongue
as you pick up another stone to throw.

And you sit alone in your shell
Wondering solemnly why
no one screams
your name back

I’ve felt your oily gaze stain me.
Daring me to stop you from yourself
as you took a lit match and burnt what you had down.

And you succeeded
Burning, raging forest fire
almost taking down
everything we had

I’ve always meant to tell you this.

I’ve watched your plummet.

the clouds in the sky concealing
your tear stained face
as you gather up the courage
to look down
into the frothing, angry sea
that you churned
and away from
the sweet blue sky
that melted the only wings
you had left