when i wake up there are tears in my eyes and a blur of white in my vision

WHITE WALLS WHITE CEILING WHTIE COATS WHITE SHEETS WHITE SHIRT BLOODLESS SKIN BLOOD STAINS WHITE WALLS WHITE CEILING WHTIE COATS WHITE SHEETS WHITE SHIRT BLOODLESS SKIN BLOOD STAINED BODY WHITE WALLS WHITE CEILING WHTIE COATS WHITE SHEETS WHITE SHIRT BLOODLESS SKIN BLOOD STAINED BODY WHITE WALLS WHITE CEILING WHTIE COATS WHITE SHEETS WHITE SHIRT BLOODLESS SKIN BLOOD STAINED BODY

a. the salt in my tears hurt the wounds flecked along my lips

b. my head is as loud as an airplane passing by

c. i can't move my legs without black spots appearing in my vision

d. there are a pair of eyes above me, the color of metal and flecked with worry

e. d-dad?

someone's calling my name, someone far away. as far as the rosette nebula and... and as close as home (which is as distant as yesterday)

roselin
roselin
roselin
roselin
roselin
roselin
roselin
roselin
roselin
roselin

the sounds are like faraway raindrops
like the beat of my heart
until i became my heartbeat.

there is a beeping sound
in the room. it sharpens
and rings in my ears.

ROSELIN

my vision clears.

ROSELIN.

my father's face hovers over mine, like a sun to it's forests.

but he is not my sun anymore.

"roselin,"

his eyes are kind, the color of lightning and smoke and ashes, portals to his dead heart. the color of lightning and smoke and ashes.

i wanted to ask him to hold me, then. i wanted to tell him i was scared like i did when i was young. i wanted to sob into his shoulder until i lost all sense of reality. i wanted him to be my anchor when the storm in my eyes drowned my face.

but no.

BECAUSE MY BODY BECAME A BATTLEFIELD BECAUSE OF HIM. BECAUSE WHEN I NEEDED A HOSPITAL TO CARE FOR THE SICK AND WOUNDED WITHIN ME HE WASN'T THERE. BECAUSE WHEN I NEEDED A FAUCET TO WASH THE BLOOD OFF MY SCARS HE WASN'T THERE. BECAUSE WHEN I WANTED TO ASK HIM TO HOLD ME HE WASN'T THERE. BECAUSE THERE ARE TOO MANY UNSPOKEN WORDS BETWEEN US. BECAUSE I'M ANGRY, AND I'M SCARED/I'M FUCKING TERRIFIED BUT I CAN'T GIVE HIM ANOTHER CHANCE BECAUSE I'VE ALREADY GIVEN WAY TOO MANY.

my father's hand reaches for mine, attached to tangled wires and machines that my head is yet to distinguish from the dizziness and spiraling and heaviness in my head and pain.

his eyes flash with pain when i pushed his touch away. he looked as if i had just shot him, me, a dying girl in a white dress with skin drained of color and a heart dead because of him, because of her.

her.

the monster.

"where is she?" i whisper. my voice gets lost in an ocean of gray in my head. when i focus on the pain too much, black glitches flash over my vision.

he doesn't speak for a moment.

"she's... she's gone."

his eyes fill with regret and he looks just as lost as me, lost in the fantasy of a woman he never knew.

gone.

gone.

gone.

gone.

gone.

she's GONE.

is it more cruel to rejoice at the death of a beast or to feel hatred so deep that you can't breathe hatred buried deep within that one's death can't take away, hatred more alive than you because- because, because i feel nothing. i feel nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing.

my father's eyes meet mine. (my father. my father. he is my father, but he is not my dad, not my dad, not my dad.) # i look away. # / "you're gone too, rose," / he whispers so softly that i would have thought it was only a dream if i hadn't watched his lips form the words.

if the pain wasn't killing me already the silence between us would have.

"your mother... i miss her too, you know?"

if i had more strength than all the willpower i have to squeeze into staying awake, i would have screamed right then. screamed at him, screamed at the monster whom i will bury (who has buried me already), screamed and stabbed him with the teeth in my heart, teeth of anger and resentment and insecurity and fear. i would have torn the hospital apart, torn away the white walls filling my memories with trauma and death and my mother's faded smile, torn away and painted the white roses by my bed with blood. but the only thing i could think of was,

IF YOU MISSED HER, THEN WHY WAS I THE ONLY ONE THERE? WHY WAS I THE ONLY ONE THERE WHEN I SCATTERED MY MOTHER'S ASHES OVER THE OCEAN, WHERE SHE WANTED TO BE BURIED. BURIED ALL OVER THE WORLD. SHE HAD WANTED THE OCEAN TO REMEMBER HER, SHE HAD WANTED DISTANT ISLANDS TO HAVE PIECES OF HER ON THEIR SHORELINES, SHE HAD WANTED TO BE IMMORTAL IN A THOUSAND PIECES. WHY WAS I THE ONLY ONE THERE TO WATCH HER EMBRACE HER FREEDOM IN DEATH, WHY WAS I THE ONLY ONE THERE? WHY WEREN'T YOU THERE TO HOLD OUR RED UMBRELLA OVER OUR HEADS WHEN IT RAINED THAT GRAY DAY, WHY WEREN'T YOU THERE TO WIPE AWAY MY TEARS? WHY DID THE RAIN HAVE TO DO THAT INSTEAD?

🌙

i don't know what happened. all i know is that i woke 3 days later, my body aching and my heart in pieces and my mind flashing with memories i wanted to kill.

i woke 3 days later, the chair by my bed filled with a note instead of my father.

i'm sorry rose. i have to go to work.
get well soon my love.

- and in the end we are all gone. always gone.