in the moment before
sleep erupts from your chest, you hear
the whispers: "why do you live while we die?"
slithering in the eyes of ghosts that rise
from your breath, and you

sigh

like it's your last in the world.
(you don't want to give in
to their icy iron fingers pointed
at you like guns, but you know
one day you'll take the bullet
you deserve). you still remember
all their names and iron taste.

when you bite into your skin it tastes
of rain and your bone is shaped
like lightning. the thunder rolls under
your eyes, shattering your cheek bone like
his fist and you can feel yourself crumble
into muddy bruises all over again.

you've forgotten a time
when light wasn't an anesthetic and
night didn't make your eyes water.
sometimes siberian dark drags
too long and your candle blows out in
a cloud of smoke; shudders never end
and you can't be warm no matter
how you curl and close your eyes.

the northern lights freeze in
your bones, leave a dim reflection in
your eyes, inextinguishable.
its devours your flesh in its bright
blue to black falling apart. the only cure
is a fist and a trigger and the muted
explosion of a bullet filling the hollowness as
you chase tomorrow & tomorrow & tomorrow.

you like the burning when
there's no air left because
it makes you think you could
catch on fire again. but you know
it's only your lungs decaying, another
ending from the dead
voices in your head.

and they ask you why
you were spared—
of all of them, why you?

because i can finish
you shiver into sleep
i will finish for you

rise from the ashes,
and we will rise with you.