I watch the blood drip from the swing set.
Blood starting to pool on the ground.
He lays there, draped across the wooden seat.
I know anyone else in my shoes would be crying right now.
...But this happens all the time.
Sometimes I see the light fade from his eyes. Sometimes it's just a red flash.
At first I feared his deaths.-
Now they seem like part of my day.
His colours are crimson and orange.
When I was young I would laugh.
I didn't really understand....
Death.
Maybe I've been desensitized to it.
I don't even flinch now as blood drips thickly from his shattered skull.
I just hate to see him in pain.
...To hear him scream as he's ripped apart.
But he doesn't want my sympathy.
All he's ever wanted is for me to love him.
..Even when he's gone.