Saints Don't Bleed Like This

They called her saint because she stood while others knelt.

But saints don’t bleed like this, not from the center of their chest, not with eyes wide open, not while wearing armor made of memory.

He stands beside her, not in devotion but in shared silence.

They are not holy. They are what’s left when holiness dies.

Red wings. Closed hearts. A promise too sharp to speak.

This is not salvation. This is survival.