They Always Leave in the Morning
our fingers interlock as we navigate the deep maze, looking at the sky—
full of stories encapsulated in the stars: ready to burst like a poached egg
the night veils our faces, and the warmth from your hands are the only distinction between my past and my present—i remember how he spread his ice throughout my body, every shiver a testament to his goals
but you melted my memories of him and they dripped down my skin, hitting the ground, awaiting their evaporation, seeping into the clouds like poison—soon released through their teardrops, landing on another victim.
so i lay in your arms, as you carry me through this labyrinth
the man in the moon takes his leave as we exit; i look into your eyes as the sun’s rays peel off our veils, but the warmth in your hands disappears, replaced by cerulean blood as your form changes in broad daylight.
the clouds curtain the sun, relaying their tears down, spotlighting my body as you drop me on the coarse earth: your hands turn bluer as rain pours down, poison oozing into your once soft skin, as your body gets lifted up
until you vanish, just like he did
Nikkita Pandey is a teen writer from the United States. She edits and writes for many magazines and has work published or forthcoming in Cathartic Literary Magazine, Outlander Zine, The Hearth Magazine, and The Young Writer’s Initiative. In her free time she also enjoys studying ornithology.