i'm wrong

and we were quiet.  there was a frantic pulsing but a silence that wrapped itself, tangled itself around us and froze the blood in our veins with its silent shrieks and painful cries. we, two familiar souls, finding ourselves strangers. gripped in the gnarled bones of regret and ice, unmoving, the blood has slowed. you turned to me and whispered a terrible weight which slipped into my skin and poured through my veins.  to beg for cleansing would be for naught and i abstain, and crawl blind in my stupor to a comforting corner, calm and cold as i chill and shake and murmur my prayers of redemption. we were feverish and clamouring, which only makes this a more painful demise, our noise and life drowned by these shadows, these shapes of mourning. someone reach us, someone save us, please pull me up and out from under these waves.  i crash and cry and pair these words for the illusion of grace that eludes me in all i may try.  fighting no more, i succumb to the sea and drift in softness to the dark below.