Blinding Rage

we’ve been lost at sea for 20 days now, light brights up the night, my starving guts growl. i’m stranded on a ship of glass, which day will be my last? i toss and turn in my bed. an angel was lowered down from the clouds with pink wings and legs like a grasshopper; sixteen eyes in her head, trembling, screaming in a dead language. the captain locked the angel in a cage, then lightning crushed his skull with blinding rage.

one by one the crew fell sick with illness, while the angel was locked in imprisonment, my skin turned translucent, everyone could see my organs trembling like the gears of a clock. the first mate whose guts where stung with hunger tried one night to kill the strange angel, he turned into a hawk, with wings that peeled right off. we could not stand the sight of his crippled state, so we threw him overboard with blinding rage.

i can’t sleep to save my life. all these dreams keep me up at night. see that black curtain coming for me, right now.

the cook and i were the only two alive. the cook lusted for the angel all day and night. the sky formed his face in stars, the face said do that angel no harm, but he touched her skin anyway. the next day the cook was not in his bed i heard him cry for help inside a mirror, where he was trapped for life, and he could never die, just watch all his friends slowly age, and beat against the glass with blinding rage.

i’m on my back watching clouds collide, all alone I know I surely will die. but before i expire, i untie the angels barbed wire and see land approach like a books last page. and take my last breath with blinding rage.