All our blood soaks these stairs. Months of deep talks on dark nights. Deep wounds stitched together. Laughter exchanged as depths are known. Hearts and minds racing toward an unseen horizon. A mad season lays behind. Tonight I sit on those same stairs alone. Questioning everything knowing nothing. Feeding a swirl of rage, pain and fear. The tidal waves tear through an unmoving frame. I am a disconnected spectre, a fading negative.  C Fish Continue reading Blood Stairs