Quick, run.
Find Nyx.
Her ear is infected
again.
She’s running away.
Brothers follow
into my Grand Library.
I imagine
this is how Alexandria
must have looked
after the fall.
Eldest manages to grab her.
Brother, let me—
No. I got this.
Please, let me—
NO.
I watch him
struggle and sway
until she is subdued,
as the room begins to rumble.
I walk toward them.
Poor kitty.
She looks filthy.
Couldn’t fuck you up
if she tried.
Salivating,
tilted little head,
dirtied up and wet.
She turns it
to the right,
slightly up.
The walls begin to crack.
Brother, let me he—
I can do thi—
I know, but let me—
NO.
I stand still,
the hard rocking unsettling me.
I look up.
BROTHER.
Part of the ceiling,
or whatever held above us,
collapses.
I go to grab
the soothed feline.
Brother pulls brother
and they run behind me.
We are so close
to the exit.
The library opens
its stomach.
I grab for something.
Anything.
Something pretending
to hold.
Younger trips.
Oldest falls back with him.
And as he falls,
he clings onto me.
I blame myself
for the trip.
Somehow,
it’s always my fault.
And I don’t know why I—
STAND UP STRAIGHT.
take—
DON’T FALL.
the—
STAY UP.
bla—
They keep shouting.
And I say to myself:
DON’T FALL.
STAY UP.
YOU HAVE TO HOLD THEM.
THIS IS YOURS.
HOLD THEM.
DON’T FALL.
What if you just…
let go?
so dizzy
this feeling
this holiness
of letting go
of the pole.
I open my arms.
Nyx rises.
And Night falls.
Everywhere around me.
The library has collapsed.
And nothing.
I am falling.
My brothers have dissolved
into air,
or something less,
or sublime.
I can’t understand.
I am elated.
Everything—
nothingness—
is so much.
I feel at ease,
like something is sorting
within myself.
I understand
what was destruction
and what was desire.
I don’t understand ho—
I am falling in the dark.
I am alone
in the dark.
How am I breathing?
I begin to forget.
I start to cry.
This feels familiar.
This is what it’s like to die.
As the panic courses through me,
I hear a whisper:
Grieve this.
Eventually,
you will forget
the shape
of what was never yours.
You are alone,
and that is not ill.
You are not empty.
You have.
The heartbeat in my head
slows slightly.
I have.
I word it quietly,
almost as if to keep it.
To remember.
I close my eyes
and feel what it would be
to embrace myself.
Cho iza.
