Winter

The wind whispers the sound of new found hope.
The trees lay sick, shivering under the blanket of frozen tears.
The ground is cold, the grass is weak.
The birds chirp, too quietly to remember the sound.
The sun is tired, hiding behind clouds.
The flowers suffocate, unable to breathe.
A girl cuts skin, savors their screams.
Laughs at the metallic red on her hands.
A boy seeks favor, for broken limbs and hearts stitched loose.
Breaking bones, dancing with the dead.
Chainsaws rip and saws slice veins.
Desire to kill runs down their chins.
The teddy bear lay, so broken and forgotten.
Her hands clasp its neck, his hand takes her wrist.
Her blood is taken, as the needles shoot through.
He smiles in the darkness, bright and illuminated.
There’s blood on the ground, dragged along the floor.
Who did it now?
He looks to her glowing green eyes
as she points the gun to his chest.
She coughs at how close his knife is to her neck.
Her blood trickles out her mouth, dripping to the bodies.
His smile starts ascending, his thoughts begin condescending.
She pulls the trigger.
He slits the knife.
They fall to the cold ground, the grass is weak.
The birds chirp, too quietly to remember the sound.
The sun is tired, hiding behind the clouds.
The boy and girl suffocate, unable to breathe.
They choke on their blood, slurp up a last sound.
“I loved you.”