Oh, Moon, why won't you bloom?

Turn full, and save me from this gloom,

I'm masked under a bouquet of doom,

Wishing you would whisk me away on a broom,

Oh, Sun, why won't you shine?

Make these clouds part ways and show me a sign,

Make my stars align and entwine, along with fate on cloud nine

But maybe it's a fault of mine, and the way I live my life,

Oh, Ocean, why won't you let me drown?

Why let me float with nowhere to go,

Not even a boat, all alone with an empty frown,

Until it breaks dawn, and the beauty gives me vertigo,

Oh, You, why won't you let me go? Let me free,

Break these shackles that hold me to thee,

I can feel your heartbeat, so I'll never give in,

Even if you hold me back, you're just my reflection,

Not my perception, a glass aberration,

So shatter in my rejection, my final imperfection

It’s been five hundred and fifty nine days,

And I know the man in the mirror’s words are final,

To always remind that you used the highway,

And left me in the sideway

Alone in a haze, I never got a chance to gaze

At you, I used to laugh with you,

Smile for you, at least I used to, until you-

Left,

It doesn’t feel right, my chest feels tight

Whenever I think of you, wishing you would please write

Was it love? that doesn't feel right,

It wasn’t passion, but you were always compassionate,

And our meeting wasn’t fate it was an accident,

But our friendship was a treasure,

And my admiration can’t be measured,

But it’s hopeless, I’m in denial,

And I know that the man in the mirror’s words are final,

“She’s not coming back.”

My heart is bleeding rubies

and my tongue is spreading lies

My chest is feeling tight

and my smile is faking bright

Ocean of tears,

painted in red

Cry of my being

painted in red

My heart has finished bleeding rubies

and my tongue is done spreading lies

My chest has finished feeling tight

and my smile is done faking bright

One last gift

For you to cherish

A ring of rubies

Made of my

Blood

With each step, creaked the floorboard beneath my muddy shoes, the sound piercing thick air like a periodic slice of a metaphorical knife, cutting through the eerie silence.

An anonymous caller had called in the station right as the clock had stricken midnight, leaving in an ominous tip about this place, 11037 Jenkins Street, an old and abandoned Bungalow.

The tip? A triple murder.

Three weeks ago, the smith family consisting of the aging Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith along with their only daughter, Emily smith, had gone missing.

The caller allegedly found their bodies at this very place.

"Sir, d-do you smell that?"

"That's a stupid question, George. The stench is stomach emptying, you'd have to lose your nose not to notice it."

The newly hired investigative assistant, George, looked aghast at the smell. Handkerchief to the nose and terror in striking blue eyes, grayer than usual.

"D-does that m-mea-"

"Dead bodies." I cut him off, resuming the walk into the Bungalow, the smell was coming from upstairs.

The stairs, creaky.

The air, heavy.

The smell, mortifying.

Finally, the second floor.

"Oh god..." The words escaped my lips as my stomach turned.

"Si-"

George had wanted to say something, yet the words never came. Instead, he had leaned over the railing and threw all over.

Hunched and piled atop each other, ending off with the limp body of the daughter, laid bare the Smiths.

Discolored, green fungi had risen, as the bloated skin had been torn apart, giving birth to the nests and houses of larval blowflies, crawling out of their deceased bodies. Their existence ripped bare of any familiarity, leaving only this horrifying sight as their last memory.

Another sleepless night on the Job.

“Don’t do it! Please, don’t, I’m your only child, I’m your only son...” The boy had begged him, clutching onto a bag. Yet, the only response he got was the last he’d ever hear.

“I would believe you but, I don’t know you.” He had replied, cocking the gun.

Bang.

The body had dropped dead onto the hardwood floor, the blood painting it red, dripping into the contents inside of the bag.

Bloodstained, they had read,

Aricept

Symptomatic treatment of mild to moderate Alzheimer’s.

Born at seventh's end

To parents soon to be dead

In green light's embrace.

For a character from my favorite book series.