Late I lie when all are sleeping.
In my bed tossing and stressing.
I try to think not ‘gain of weeping,
But my mind won’t listen.
I cannot run from the reelings,
Of life movies inwardly playing.
Cannot stop or destroy the feelings,
Which torture yet again.
The pain of living with the truth,
Bleeds me dry, until I lie,
Closed-off and aloof;
I am the walking dead.
I long to get it out of me.
The shame and pain and memories.
There is no way, don’t you agree?
To save my soul anyway?
I could bleed it out my veins.
I could bandage and heal it,
But the truth is as long as I have veins,
The pain will be there too.
Only a moment would I find relief,
By taking care of outwardly-pain;
Then later, heal, and feel only grief,
That the mark is gone.
As I still feel the pain…didn’t heal at all!
No matter how much I bleed it’s there,
So what can I do? I have to live or fall.
A moment longer. A moment.
I must live for the moment or die.
Let it all out and cry.
K. Aldaya, 07/23/13
Picture: “Rainy Night” by GMK9VII on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Rainy-Night-506473363