Laments of ire, 
two, three, one
down china doll faces.
There is nothing 
more for them.
There is nothing
more for me.
I shake in my skin,
the carrot of a future dangled
before me and yanked away.

The pain is there,
in the lakes of blue
that serve as your eyes.
Orange still hangs before you,
but it is only a reminder
of what you cannot have.

Me.

Frozen rain
chokes my lungs;
tears of stone
and geez,
it's just a little nosebleed.
It'll stop soon enough...
Just put your blinders on,
it'll stop.

Before I forget your blue
and the cold left 
by this invisible rebellion
overwhelms me,
just one more thing:
silly rabbit,
carrots are for the healthy.

Search the forever skies,
hidden within my irises
and find, never, 
an indication of remorse.

Do they hurt you anymore,
parasites of that future dangled 
in front of us
and cut down 
with one fell swoop
of the seagull's wing?
They seem to have forgotten me,
favouring instead 
the other larvae who squirm
their pathways through my veins.