Blue Fly Suicide

He just kept buzzing. Up and down, in and out. He followed me to the bathroom. He sang me to sleep. He made sure there was always enough for me and him to eat.

He would only stay a few days. You see, his clock was tickin’. I just never thought he’d leave so quick.

He just kept buzzing. Making sure I knew he was there. He laid kisses on my head, kisses on my chest. I gently swatted him away.

He saw me in eight ways. All kaleidoscope and strange. He had no love for the outside world, none that he could tell. I always found him by the window sill.

He just kept buzzing. Enamored by my art. Astounded by the colors, but no other caught his eight ball eyes like blue. If only I knew.

He dreamed of blue. To dance within it was his only calling. To splatter his wings in that primary was his mission. And he did accomplish it, to my dismay.

He just kept buzzing. As he drowned in blue; the only love he knew. His golden body now dressed in navy hue.

He reveled in the feel of that silky liquid. Made sure every inch was covered and plastered. With his last breath he modeled for me. He asked me, “am I art yet?”

Signing off, TWS


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