Where do they all fall?

My boiling blood told me they all fall one day, grow stark cold, then roll away, forgotten. Leaving behind a sweet serenade of stupor accompanied by the slow dwindling of memories. My boiling blood told me it would go cold turkey one day, too; simply stop warming my bones and flesh.Without warning. I know yet fear the cold. I can’t yet wish to escape its grasp, but then again, where would I go? I am tied by a twig to the tree of life, dangling in midair and ripe for the plucking.

At night, I hear flowing blood reverberating in my ears, urging me to listen to the beating drum of my heart; a repetitive rhythm slowly coming to a stop.

In winter my blood boils warmer, to keep me safe from the freeze. It’s effective. It cares for me, I think.

The landscape unravels like a fakir deploying his magical carpet and slowing floating toward the sky and off into the sunset. The clouds are pretty today. I didn’t quite like yesterday’s clouds. What will tomorrow’s be like? It’s, perhaps, not something people care for but, I do. I care, for clouds.

And, I care about where they all go when they fall. Those boiling fruits of blood. Hanging loosely from that dreadful tree.

13 thoughts on “Where do they all fall?

Add yours

  1. Wow! Issaaa!! I miss having a dose of your wit thru such awesome works like this one! This is a mixture of fear, comfort, confusion, inspiration and love rolled into perfection. Well done! I am honestly inlove with this writing style 😍 keep it up!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I find it interesting that you describe it as “boiling blood”. I interpreted boiling blood similar to the description of “making one’s blood boil” as a sign of intense anger but I feel that anger is not what you’re trying to convey in the first part.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. It’s more of an idea of implosion… 🙂 of human beings and the blood we carry. It’s always hot and has to remain at an agreeable temperature of 36-38 degrees. 🙂 it’s also a play with the sounds. Indeed anger is not part of it. It’s more of a metaphor on death.

    Liked by 1 person

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