Fragments of me

I scrape the coagulation from my face. My scalp flaps behind me, drumming through my skull.

I force force my legs forward. Ash falls in thick, heavy drifts, threatening to topple me.

My shoulders ache from the weight of my own arms.

The wind carries a sour tang as it howls past my ear canals. The ears themselves, I left behind.

Useless things.

One foot, then the next.

My toes commit treason, abandoning ship one by one. Black ichor seeps from their empty homes.
Relief comes when my left arm falls free.

I must get to them.

My eyes find moisture, long thought burned away. The tears carve canyons in my desecrated cheeks.

They need me.

Thunder shakes the world, throwing me to the ground.

My ribs splinter like twigs.

When I rise, my legs collapse like buildings marked for demolition.

I watch my kneecaps roll past me, blackened and porous.

I must crawl.

My fingers dig deep. Some snap off in the soil. Others turn to dust. The motes drift past and sting my eyes.

Pull. Pull. Pull.

I feel my chest give way. Something slimy spills out.

My hand vanishes in a smear of black.

Something hits me, and I feel an eye rupture. The salty fluid runs into my mouth.

My lungs turn hard as I roll over.

I have to save them.

Above me, through fire and ash, I see blue sky.

I think I'll rest for now.