Blood Red Skies

I lie, sprawled across the sand,

unmoving.

and in my hand, i hold a rose,

and the blood from the thorns drips between my fingers.

my other hand, clenches the space above my heart, resting upon my chest,

a chest that no longer heaves,

like the waves which gently surround me,

and now i am no longer picture perfect, a tragic pose to call for tears.

now i am nothing,

and the sea takes me, and diginity does no follow.

i roll clumsily onto one side, my arms crossed unnaturally.

my head lolls backwards, my eyes out of control.
the rose falls from my hand, and stays on the sand behind me as i finally dissapear from sight.


only minutes later, a small girl runs across the sand, and picks up the rose.
and proudly displays it to her mother.

the mother cries,
and the child does not know why.

but when this small girl looks to the horizon, she sees the blood red skies of a broken heart.