Written by Jacob Ibrag
Yesterday you whispered goodnight
to him, lying that you’ll be there in the
morning. Planning and waiting for the
opportune moment to run away. Instead
you close your eyes and with that, your
guard faded. Asleep in your cozy bed in
the middle of sun soaked Brazil, only to
wake submerged in a powdery white grave.
Unable to feel your skin except for the
breathing tube placed between your lips.
Left for dead or was it an option to live?
You want to cry but hold back the tears,
‘this isn’t how I die, tomorrow will be
another day.’ Your mind starts to wander
into the darkness, begging to return to a
more permanent dream state. Seconds before
drifting, a voice floods your ears and mind.
Barely being able to hear anything except a
for a couple of sentences, ‘run away, run
away. Follow the frozen footsteps back to
me.’ That voice, it was him. It had to be.
Art by inetgrafx