first slide.

i'm carrying bodies from the wreckage, flames sharpening against my back as i go. 27 and counting, the damage to their flesh grotesque. lost eye, lost arm. i dive back and bring out the last boy. his leg is bleeding, half of it gone. the building is still collapsing. he's crying, begging for help. i'm giving it to him but i'm not sure he understands. when i go back in, i bring back trinkets. a receipt from 2 years ago, a cup smeared with ash and something bloodier, a pen with a rose coloured tip. the boy is still begging. i go back in. i don't come out. the boy curses me with a vengeance. he's still begging.

second slide.

i'm diving into a lake, my body curved like half of a parabola. when i break the surface, barely any ripples emerge. when i dive to the bottom, i find my mother, serene, beckoning me close. her skin is mottled and flaking and i can taste rot as she holds me tight. i'm choking. she brings me closer, whispers little things in my ear that i don't know the meaning of. the air escapes me, little bubbles fighting their way out of my mother's embrace. i don't. when the last bubble goes, she lets me go. i hold her tighter, my body decaying like hers. i know now, what she said. this is how love works. this is what home feels like.

third slide.

i'm sitting in the middle of my living room and it's all blurry and soft. my body is a streak of flesh, dark hair like smudged pigment against the picture. i don't know why i'm telling you about this one. you should know. i should know. we don't know. let's move on.

[REDACTED]

i'm leaving. half is already gone. there's a wisp of a sleeve disappearing behind a tree trunk that shows signs of lightning strikes. i hate this one. you can tell how it ends. maybe it's perspective. maybe it's me. i always leave in the end. can't you tell how this goes? bring me back again. erase the picture and maybe we'll do better. maybe.

fourth slide.

i'm walking towards you. half of me is visible. the tree is still green. it's still blooming. you can't see the other side now. i can. that's not important. i'm walking towards you. i'm walking towards you. you know i am. is it too late? this picture is burned. leave it. i'll make another. it'll be all right. i promise.

fifth slide.

i'm lying. i've lied. they're dogging my steps now. the words i've spent like forged dollars are coming to haunt me now. it's a game show and i'm your main contestant. the pennies come showering down and you're laughing and i'm laughing but i'm bleeding too. chips of copper are getting rusted because of me and all you can think about is how it's gonna be a nightmare to clean. the game show ends and you're all gone but i'm still there. the lights are off and my booth is like a flare in the darkness. copper keeps coming down. i'm still laughing but tears come down too and i can't stop it. it won't end like this but this is the ending you saw. but if you never saw it then i don't think it happened.
i'm still there, aren't i?
aren't i?

and i guess you want me to tell you why i keep digging this up. six feet under but i stay unburied. i keep coming back. look back at slide four, tell me what you see. look back and tell me i'm still dead. photographs lie and i do too but look in my eyes and tell me you don't think this is real. i'm here and i always will be. i'll be the coins in your blood. maybe i'm dead but these remain. i know you can't burn them. you can't burn me. you and i, we'll die at the same time.

sixth slide.

i'm waiting.