there are holes in our hearts, and they bleed tangerine juice--

sweet upon tongues, sticky on fingertips;

carve me into the effigy of an angel and let me sit atop your altar,

keeping you company even when words fail and the night closes in;

for if you ever look for me, my love, look beyond the place where darkness falls,

where the twisted wraiths burn temples to our brokenhearted brothers,

lost in the dusky nothingness and the thick smoke that fills our lungs,

rendering us to ashes, falling softly to ruin, crumbling to pieces at your touch;

i’m here, my love, no matter how many times the sun sets;

you can find me between the lines of a well-worn book, dog-eared on all the wrong pages,

rushed notes scribbled in the margins in a heavy crimson ink--

is it blood? i do not know, and you seem unwilling to tell--

and our bodies intertwine, two hearts singing the same song,

two mouths breathing the same air, one mind saying the same words,

words like ‘i love you’ and ‘i know’, ‘i’m here’ and ‘i’m not going anywhere’,

snippets of truth and fractured freedom and promises that shall never truly be broken;

for not even the darkness that spans us can separate our souls, not even the

slippery sirens singing songs of silence and shattering sorrows

shall send us back to whence we came,

because together, we are whole;

this is an elegy to the brokenhearted,

to the dreamers,

to the wonderers,

to those who live in the shadows,

to those who feel as though the world may just swallow them whole

and spit them out, chewed, chained, chastised, into hell

to burn in halfhearted rapture and manic sorrow for the rest of their days.

this is an elegy to you, my love, and to me, and to us;

perhaps even the stars fade away, my love,

yet we will not,

for it is not our earthly time to depart;

breathe me in, our hearts in sync,

our lips whispering frantic prayers to some unknown deity--

one who may never answer our calls,

but what have we to lose but ourselves--

and follow me through the darkness.

i’ll weave you a moon/ from jellyfish tentacles/ and hang it/ upon the wall/ we’ll make this our temple/ of butterflies and moondrops/ and sing an elegy/ to the brokenhearted

i’ll paint you a sky/ with the colors of your eyes/ and savor it/ upon my lips/ the taste mingling/ with your name/ drowning out the iron/ and salt/ and unsaid words

i’ll sculpt you an earth/ from tangerine peels/ and breathe in/ the petrichor/ feel the bark peeling/ upon the trees/ hear the frogs croaking/ in the dead/ of night/ calling us home

i’ll build you the world, darling

your twirling lilac petals have long ago wilted; your eyes have gone to join the stars. nails and teeth and bones are all that remain in this crumbling field, hallowed by time and consecrated by those who came before us. sumptuous droplets plunge from the sky in effervescent trails, one after the other, descending from the heavens. petrichor fills my lungs; it would fill yours, should they be functioning, yet i'm left breathing in the vapors of my own burned flesh. sanguine skies shimmer overhead with the light of a thousand fallen souls. gossamer threads trail across the ground, weaving together ash and blackened earth and the remains of your ethereal silhouette. the earth feeds on your bones feed on the earth feeds on my heart. love is naught but a paradox: in its beginning is its ending, and like the ouroboros, it shall feed into itself for eternity.

bathe me in midnight ink and drag me down to the depths

pressure crushing my cranial cavity twisting me inside out

oxygen screams within my lungs its hollow cries go unheard

by your shrunken corpse among the fishes coral and bone

ecosystems inside your ribcage a world you’ll never know

filling the void in your chest where your heart once was

and i’m tugging on the tether one two three four five

but there’s no one bringing me up so i lay here

forgotten amongst the waves and shells and rubble

warped wreckage metal scraps propellers and a single sunken shoe

bathe me in midnight ink and drag me down to the depths

crown me in a ring of anemone

and hereafter i will lie with nothing but

a curious cuttlefish to stir my settled bones

open your fiery gates, fools

allow my creeping corruption to caress you deep inside

and bear yourselves to the darkness that resides within

until your light seeps out between my clenched fingers

whispering like coals tossed about in the tide

open your fiery gates, fools

so i may sit upon my rightful throne

with naught but a wicked smile splitting my face and a

lopsided crown of broken bones perched upon my skull

at long last, fools, your ruler has come home

pounding and pounding and pounding and

spiraling

down down down down down

so deep

so deep

so godsdamn deep you'll never find me

never see the light of day

of day

of day

of night

this is night

night

eternal night

darkness swallows me up

swallows

swallow the pills

swallows soaring in the sky

sky high

high as i can go

i can go far away

go far away

leave me alone

alone with my thoughts

my thoughts tear me apart

torn apart by your words

your words carve into my skin

carve cuts into my skin

the cuts sting

my head pounds

pou ndin g and pou ndin g and pou nding and

spirali ng

d own d own d own d own d own

so de ep

so d eep

so gods damn dee p yo u'll nev er fin d m e

nev er s ee th e lig ht of d ay

o f da y

o f d ay

of ni ght

th is is nig ht

nig ht

ete rnal n ight

darkn ess swal lows m e up

swallo ws

swallo w th e pi lls

swall ows soar ing i n the s ky

sk y hi gh

hi gh as i ca n go

i ca n go fa r a way

go f ar aw ay

lea ve me alo ne

alo ne w ith my tho ughts

my th oughts tea r m e ap art

tor n apa rt by yo ur wo rds

yo ur word s car ve in to my s kin

carv e c uts in to m y ski n

the cut s sti ng

m y he ad pou nds

po u ndi n g and po u nd in g and pou n ding and

spir ali ng

d o w n d own d o wn d o w n d ow n

s o d e ep

s o d ee p

so go ds dam n dee p yo u' ll ne v e r fin d m e

nev e r s ee th e l i ght of d ay

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th is is n ig ht

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da r kn es s sw al low s m e u p

sw a llo ws

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sk y hi gh

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lea ve me alo ne

al o ne w it h my th o ugh ts

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pounding

and pounding

and pounding

and pounding

did you hear about the conjoined twins who robbed the bank?

it was a very con fusing case.

what do you call it when it rains pork?

a meatier shower.

i lost my radish last night.

don't worry, though. i bet it will turnip.

what has more legs than a centipede?

two centipedes.

what has more legs than a bird?

a centipede.

these are all jokes written in the notes on my phone that are so horrible i can't help but laugh at myself. the last one makes no sense and i love it

should i ever go, my darling

bury me in roses

and let the crows

feast upon my bones

the sunset glides

in violent tides biding its time

until you finally die

and lie inside

those hollow bones

of smoke and frozen stones

that years ago you

called home

and that day you will pray

to stay and gaze

upon my radiant face

and i will say

welcome home, my love

welcome home

It’s been twenty-four months since the lottery. It’s been twenty-four months since the destruction of Tokyo. And it’s been twenty-four months since I last saw you.

You were left behind. I made the cut. You didn’t.

We all saw it coming. The threat of nuclear fallout had been looming over us for decades. Hiroshima. Nagasaki. We all know how that story goes. Nuclear weapons were suddenly in the public eye, and military groups scrambled to perfect them.

After creating the world’s most powerful nuclear bomb, years before we were born, a group known as the Renovators announced their intentions: to eradicate the world’s largest cities. Soon, they would rebuild the world how it was intended to be.

Filtered. Uncontaminated. Pure.

Those who just wanted to save their hides fled to designated regions of the world, where the Renovators put them to work. For people with a conscience, there was nowhere to go.

They started with Beijing. The city was dying anyway- overpopulation had taken a toll. Plague, famine, pollution. It was only a matter of time. The bomb put them out of their misery, really.

Delhi was a shame. Full of millionaires and billionaires, their legacies obliterated in the blink of an eye. Not to mention the immense casualties.

Cairo shook everyone. It was before we were born, but my grandfather told me about the day he heard the news. They say there used to be pyramids, built thousands of years ago. Some thought they were built by aliens, but I know better. There are no aliens in space. There’s nothing but a hollow emptiness that sucks your soul out in its gaping maw.

Mumbai was destroyed the year we were born. Would that be thirty years ago already? I’ve lost track of time. It seems to pass differently up here, suspended among the stars and dust and broken dreams.

I remember the destruction of São Paulo. They broadcast it live on the screens, straight into our homes. It was exhilarating in a horrifying sort of way until they showed the bodies. Strewn about, twisted, charred; they were no longer recognizable as human. I’d spent the better half of the evening losing my dinner over the bathroom toilet.

Shanghai was destroyed the following summer. Bombings were getting closer and closer together, the stakes were growing higher, but the news no longer surprised us. Another city reduced to rubble, another memorial to the millions of people murdered. They burned down the memorials anyway.

Mexico City came and went in the blink of an eye. Hardly got any news coverage. Partially because the Dictator couldn’t give less of a shit about them, but partially because of how close it was- they didn’t want to risk panic. The nukes were approaching, and it would only be a moment before they came to the United States.

Then New York City. We’d all expected it, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying. Dropped the bombs straight on Times Square. It was a beautiful place, full of lights and life and buildings that scraped against the sky itself. But it doesn’t look like that anymore. I remember hunkering down in the basement with you as we listened to the transistor radio- a relic, really. It was the first time I’d felt the panic. They were so close, and there was nothing we could do about it.

Tokyo was the last to fall. Or so we thought. Slowly, but surely, the Renovators’ presence faded into the background. We knew we didn’t have long before they returned with a stronger plan. For those of us who refused to pledge our allegiance, Earth wasn’t safe anymore.

So as the Renovators schemed, we turned our sights to the stars.

It was meant to be a secret, but word got out before long. Rumblings and mutterings of a trip to space spread, rumors of a lottery that would save us all. So, naturally, when the project was announced, I entered my name.

I didn’t expect to win. Out of the billions of people that remained, why should my name be chosen? But it was.

And yours wasn’t.

I tried to reason with them. Tried to barter to bring you along. But they said no, and you said no. Live, you said. And keep on living. For me.

Twenty-four months ago, they came to our house. I pulled you close and breathed your floral scent. Tears wet my shirt and your shirt and for but a moment, there were no boundaries between us, nothing holding us back, just two bodies intertwined for what would be the last time.

And then I left you.

Twenty-one months ago, after three months of grueling training, I boarded one of the seven ships that would carry us into space. It was to be a staggered takeoff, with one week in between each launch, and I was on the first ship to leave. There were enough provisions for five people on each ship. Five people in seven ships, one on each of seven continents. Thirty-five people to survive.

Billions to die.

They called it a lottery, but it wasn’t. They’d picked us for a reason. We were the healthy ones, the mentally sound ones, the young ones, the spry ones, the clever ones. Left behind were the weak ones, the elderly ones, the disabled ones, the ill ones, the injured ones, the children, the parents, and the rest of the world.

And we were going to create a new life. A new generation. A new world. Mars awaited us, ready to be shaped by human touch.

I was ready.

The crew was interesting, to say the least. We’d grown close over the two-year journey; as close as you could grow when you spoke different languages. But they never could have replaced you.

My first crewmate Harin was from Greenland, and they’d left their life as a pharmaceutical tech behind. They’d lived alone, with only their dog for company. They thought they were inconspicuous, but I often caught them with tears in their eyes whenever they mentioned that dog. I never worked up the courage to ask what had become of it.

Alejandra had lived in Mexico City as a child, but her parents had smuggled her into the United States before their home was destroyed. Her mother had escaped with her, but her father had stayed behind in the city. He died along with it. She’d had to say goodbye to her mother before leaving on the trip.

Yaniel was from Cuba, a country not unfamiliar with nuclear weapons. Born into poverty, he and his younger brother had lived on the streets. He often wondered aloud how his brother was doing without him.

Last but not least, Maddox was Canadian, and she’d been one of the engineers who worked on both the biosphere and the ships. The scientists had sent one up with each of us. She was a truly brilliant mind, and the only one keeping us sane.

God, it was a horrid trip. Pissing in bags and then drinking it, eating nothing but dehydrated dust that they called food, cramped in tight quarters in a giant metal bullet that split through the sky. Spending twenty-one months with four other people in a room the size of a broom closet is the definition of hell.

But we were the strong ones. We could survive anything.

Right?

Hours turned into days turned into weeks turned into months turned into nearly two years before we’d entered Mars’s atmosphere.

And now it’s been one week since we landed on Mars. It’s been one week since I stepped foot into the biodome. It’s been one week since they threw me into this room.

There are no windows. Only a solid titanium door, locked from the outside. Me. My suit. The chair. The sounds of my breath. The screen. The clock.

And the button.

It’s mounted to the wall in front of where I’m strapped into the chair. Small, blue, inconspicuous.

They’ve explained to me over and over what the button will do.

My companions’ screams tear through the insulated walls. That means they haven’t given in either. Yet.

But it’s over.

Because while the Renovators were silent, they’d been devising a plan.

A plan to go to Mars.

A plan to cultivate the best specimens from Earth, to test them, to grow and repopulate, and eventually take us back when the weaklings on Earth were gone.

And we had fallen for it.

Maddox comes into my room sometimes. She shows me your battered face upon the screen. Sometimes you say my name in your fevered sleep. It leaves a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Or maybe that’s just the blood.

They’re killing you.

She says I have a choice. If I push the button, they’ll spare you. They’ll bring you here.

If I push the button, the bombs go off.

The bombs will go off anyway, she says. Points at the clock on the wall. It’s steadily ticking down. Now, it reads 00:34:02. Thirty-four minutes until the bombs detonate. Thirty-four minutes until the entirety of Earth is destroyed.

00:31:39

This is the seventh time she’s done this; the seventh time she’s given me this speech. The clock started at 168 hours. Now, we’re down to half an hour.

00:30:02

The second ship was supposed to arrive today. I hope they’re treated better than us- after all, they won’t have any family members to use as leverage. The world will be dead.

00:28:45

Maddox says you sit in a cell in their facility, not unlike the one I’m in. She says the ships are ready. She says the button is on a delay. She says there will be enough time to evacuate you from the planet before the bombs go off.

00:26:22

She says I’ll see you again.

00:25:47

The world’s blowing up anyway. There’s nothing I can do about it. If I don’t press the button, you die along with it.

00:24:36

If I press the button, you are saved. But I will be the one responsible for the world’s destruction.

00:22:11

I can guess who’s on my companions’ screens. Harin’s dog. Alejandra’s mother. Yaniel’s brother.

00:20:19

Only one of us can press the button. If I press it, I kill them all. If they press it, they kill you. It’s a cruel test, a test to discover the strongest among us.

00:16:33

Are you strong? Maddox asks me. Or are you weak?

00:13:24

I wish she would shut up.

00:10:52

Are you strong? Or are you weak?

00:09:49

I miss you.

00:08:25

Strong? Or weak?

00:07:33

Your face flashes in my mind. Your honeycomb skin, the sparkle in your eyes, the smile

dancing across your lips.

00:06:57

What are you?

00:05:22

That same face is now bruised. Bloodied. Missing teeth. Fingernails ripped from your

hands. Sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. A skeleton of your former self.

00:04:43

Answer me.

00:03:19

For you, I am weak.

00:02:54

You told me to live for you.

00:01:35

But I cannot live without you.

00:00:10

I press the button.