This New World I Will Raise Naked and Bleeding.

Maybe next time I find something good, I'll do better and destroy it too.

Dustily rising, cliff's bottom shelf my body has laid itself, my soul awakes again, still hungry. Greedily taking in pains of my body from falling, craving the launch again.

Two craters dug into the ground, a giant hurriedly knocking holes into the earth for its children to hide from the sun.

The faded despair, excitement from falling with one you admire, tongues still, forced comfort because it might very well be the last encounter of the like.

Slinging my feet and body forward drawing a line behind me, one step at a time through whatever this is, be it life, be it death, be it nothing.

Sun intruding through my porcelain mask. Line up the middle like gates of old allowing sight out and air in. The world upside down through my vision how empty my soul seems.

I have grown wings, grey, a shade less of what you would have been so I may remember you.

Devouring the sun through mask, continuing my line down this empty stretch of land, spitting life among the rocks to scurry away, grow and commit again to my palette.

looking down at my empty open hands, so little of the world within my grasp.