code blue

pitter-patter

drip-drop

listening to the rain like listening to his heartbeat;

uneven but still alive.

I didn't know his head ached or his bones ached 

but I knew his eyes were red,

and empty glass bottles cut his fingers every once in a while.

pitter-patter

drip-drop

arms tired like his eyes

and his knuckles swollen blue,

Mother Nature cried for him

and he cried for him too;

alone and eyes still red, 

he drank from the glass bottles

and to the sky he went.

pitter-patter,

drip-drop.

the sounds of tears

her tears

their tears

all falling for him;

the glass bottles empty

and a bullet to his throat,

a cut finger and a simple note:

"my bones, 

my heart, 

they ached too much,

I love you, I'm sorry

I lost my earthly crutch"

pitter-patter

drip-drop.

a flat line and a muted buzz,

code blue.

time of death: twelve fourty two.