syrlige { elverum's last

E L V E R U M

Fangs of white, høste -- it's a flash of marrow, a split in the timeline of mine and her's - Vi, Vall, Ci - and I taste the snow virulent. My head crashes against the ground, a shell shocking rums through my ears and my back scars with the second's notice. Pike in hand, I strike, reptilian in my thoughts and it spears through Cholo, red sinking through the fabric, this day I will not go alone. There's a pounding in my chest different than its predecessor, it's tragic, fighting, swinging of cigarettes and rum bottles and moth-eaten silk and I name it Säffle and my veins burst with this desperation.

(Idiot, and in the tone I believe it too.)

O n d s k a p s f u l l -- is the moment's notice. And I through my fists, trying to run onto my feet, I'm not drowning, I won't I can't, not when I'm finally learning how to breathe. This air rushes my lungs and I don't want it to captivate me; I still hear Cholo's ringing in my ears but he is no more freed than I am. It was a last ditch effort. Maybe with his death they would've let me go, the reaper had his pick, I'm safe. ("Oh, but you never were anything but insolent," her fingers wrapped around my forearm as I breathe.

Don't let me go.")

Rask, smoldered in the god's view -- my pride takes my throat. Capsized.

I shake -- and throw, and pull and grasp and gasp and scream volatile, trapped like a monkey in a barrel, adrenaline takes my veins for three seconds I count - one, two, three - it's always been one of the few things I could do right.

And I realize my new talent, dying, as my body capsizes in the four p.m. air. 

Felle de anima, possession -- for eighteen years, I had been. Rotting, wasting, roribus, and for a moment, I allowed myself to not. I allowed air to take control of my body and take my in the gale, because I believed the tides would lead me somewhere in my serenity. Don't let it take me, Säffle return to me, her fingers pressed on my forearms now absent, my blue eyes trapped under a glass, my soul placed in a screen.

S t i t c h -- take me back, for a second I believed the air wouldn't slip through my gurgling, blood heating me in place of the alcohol me and the deep voiced man drank once. Yesterday, my palms wrap like a noose in my sister's absence around my throat, she always held me there. She placed my limits and in the void of my ear I hear nothing as the shuffling of snow rupture ceases. Ichor sticks to my life lines, voiding the heart and mind and life and fate and wipes me clean, clean of the bitter snow as blood streams from my throat, branching like hydra, like a stag and of godswood. 

Mountain sight, tonet -- a person only dies with the last mutter of their name on chipped lips, and on these screens I won't ever die, in the train's light I will remain. Forever bleeding, forever choking, I won't ever have breathed, but only died. Useless, idiot, rotting, decaying, breaking, wasting, cretin, moron, dumbass, (brother, deceased,) what will my tombstone look like? Will she bury me with Axton or Ve- finally, I cry again.

(Who's chipped lips will be my last?)

Cæcus, for forever and for always -- for always and for forever, it's all blending together, the fine lines between what I know and where she comes from, the whispers and notes and last messages and last wills she's been tattooing on my goddamn forearms I can't take it, in my last moments I'm what I always feared, what my sister always yelled and screamed and branded into my dreams - idiot, useless - why must death be so unmerciful, my breathing dying with the wind's blowing, it's catching the wind, the dying, the reaper's dirty, greedy hands, we're all dying. 

"Come."

Conscience, conscious, Elverum -- polaroids and masks, and screaming and graves and sailboats and paper boats, factory walls and beaten windows, holes in the walls or holes in the heart, beaten nerves and bleeding, bleeding bleeding it never stops that ticking, that tick tick ticking and the whispers and the screaming and the bleeding and the ticking (tick tick tick) and the dying cold, the bitter cold biting, and alcohol and this fur coat and Ve- Vi- Velo

v
 e
  l
   o
    c
     i
      t
       y

I wanted this, release, and her pale fingers fold around the red of mine. Staining, my chest heaves and my face burns. My thoughts are fading, blurred like- like. She takes my hand and the air from my body, "come." Lips parted, chipped, nobody will mention me past this moment. 

falter.

"Come," but I cannot, as her arms of snow stain with my blood, her fingers are soft like a mother's touch. Okay.

And I drown.