cut my hand on an angel’s halo, he said he’d never seen anybody bleed, what happens when the blood’s just red and not a wholesome tragedy? thought I couldn’t stand your final flight, reliving every sigh while crossing the road, till I wasn’t supposed to be there anymore. guarded my heart with his, but what happens when the knife doesn’t exist? and what happens when the ribs pierce the heart? so crushing of a hug, left only to red seeping internally, while fathoming the countless leaving, and bruised knees from hoping for the heaven you met me in.