save yourself

Here's the pavement. Cold and colorless. Not inviting, but here he lays. Weight distributed between knees and elbows. His hands with tiny cuts on each of his ten fingers were raised up to his eyes, which watched tiny lines of red snake their way through the creases of his fingerprints. With overturned hands he scrawled his story onto the cool ground. In long crimson strokes, the red tint drained from his lips. His digits dragged on the floor, kicking up dirt that hugged the underside of his nails. He swallowed his tongue because what he bleeds onto the pavement is more important than words that escape his lips. He lay his head onto the chilled ground in the middle of a windy afternoon. He exhaled a stream of blood that formed a letter, that formed a word, that formed a sentence. And, that sentence read "Save Yourself".