Day thirty seven.

 There’s no reason there’s no secret to decode. If you can’t save it leave it dying on the road. Wide open arms can feel so cold, feel so cold. It’s over before it begins. The empty sky surrounds me but I can’t see at all and you can sit beside me and tell me what it’s worth but I hope I die before I get sold. If you find the soul that you lost, frozen in a starry void take it within and hope the sight of blood can will signs of life to return back to the way that it was long before it made a noise to keep on quietly reminding you what’s never created or destroyed.