Tired.

If Memories Could Bleed

Ring around a rosy, ring around a rosy.

That song we use to sing as children.
I remember the last day we sang it. We'd been playing around the white roses.
I still remember the screams when the girls found a dark spot on one of them.

I remember the screams became so loud that it turned into silence, noticing day by day more spots infecting every rose.
We tried to color over it, wash it out, even pick the ones that weren't infected but they withered all the same.

Little did we realize the only way to end it, was to burn it all to the ground.
Standing over them as they did.

Ashes to ashes... We all fall down.

- If memories could bleed. // ~ hail