isabis ; loony/python ; white elephant

[Avalon]

I S A B I S

Let the light of God shine upon me.

Let his grace be sent and save my soul.

For it is in his name I hope to be healed eternally.

The words chase each other eternally within my mind. Ma used to pray every night before bed, her chapped lips cracking to allow drips of blood to slide down her oily face as she hung her head to hope for a better eternity when this one ended. My mother was religious, her painful life's only hope was that it would lead to eternal joy; the straws she grasped at were not tangible, but they were straws nonetheless.

When her chapped lips turned cold, and her head hung limply, I told the twins she was in a better place. Their large eyes welled with the same hope that she had had during her time, for they too had accepted their deaths, and were grasping at the same straws that she had. They say that apples do not fall far from the tree, and as my brother kneels beside our bed and his already chapped lips release the same prayer, I know he is growing in Ma's shadow. His eyelids are heavy, and his bones are visible, as he tumbles into the bed. We cling to each other, both painfully aware of our loneliness, and yet, both too fearful to discuss it.

Fatigue engrosses him first and soon he sleeps in our grim cover single mattress, dreaming of a day with a stomach not screaming in pain. When the grumble and tumble becomes too much to bear, I stumble out of bed, and carefully lower myself to the ground. Out in the darkness there isn't much to see, but I've memorized the landscape, and moonlight soon provides enough sparkle to let me see the patch of dirt I call home. It's an endless, shit covered plain that I call home, and I begin my journey towards the nearest town, hoping for some scraps to share. The stars above shine, yet their twinkle seems dull to my pessimistic eyes, because I do not believe that people become stars when they die, nor do I believe that there is a man who controls our destiny. I believe in the dirt in my sandals, the pain in my stomach, and that I have one person left in this world who is also slowly dying with me. So I close my eyes to the universe, and focus on the growing lights against the night, one step after another.

Step. Step. Step.

Dear God, if you do exist, could you send me an angel? 

Python

Loony