I lay here.

Looking up at the sky.

My bones are...broken...bits and pieces...It's no matter, I cannot feel.

My skin is torn...scraped and scorn by glass...It's no matter, I cannot feel.

My blood pours from my open wounds...flowing, gushing, going...But again, it's no matter, for I cannot feel.

The lights flashing no longer hurts my eyes. The cold of the pavement no longer pushes against me.

I see her, floating above me, screaming, crying, trying to shake me awake. I watch her fall onto my stomach, clutching me close. The warmth of her body no longer prickling up against my senses.

She's up again, trembling in her own skin, pushing down into my chest. Into my heart. A sight to behold, the girl of white, caked in a layer of crimson and impaled by small shards of glass. The girl of white pressing down on my heart. Again and again. Broken and lost, pressing down on my heart.

She cups my cheek, tears tapping against my skin. She stares into my eyes and I do not stare back. I see her, with her other hand, take my bow away from my ears.

A man in blue orders her away. I see myself being lifted up as a child's doll. I see the sky moving. I see her, running alongside the sky. Sore blue eyes balling and empty hands reaching for nothing.

The man tells her to back away, while another man signals him over. A shake of the head is exchanged and a broken cry echoes the sky.

She's back again, hovering over me, with no resistance from the man this time. Her hand cups my face once again.

She brings her tremoring lips to my still ones.

She takes in the cold.

I don't take in the heat.

She pulls away, teardrops raining. She's in pain. She is painful.

But it's no matter, since I cannot feel anymore.

My lips are curved up, as it is all I can do.

Because now I look up at the sky.

And lay here.

I lay here.

Looking up at the sky.

Love,

~Vox