19 Mar


Then, the nights were a blur. Of bloodied nightmares. And howling demons. Gawking at my fear. Cackling maniacally as i shat my pants. Poking and jabbing my ribs. Hurling abuses at my feet.

And i was shaking like a leaf. Withdrawn into myself. Pulling my flimsy coat to cover myself from the wind ringing in my ears and chilling me to the bones.

But i’d never really escape. As much as my eyes were shut..i’d feel them. Strutting around and shrieking. A mental asylum would be heaven compared to that.

Then the pain came. It always came. Right around the time the shrieking stopped. Then it was my turn to scream. Clutching at my belly. Tears never really came. It just hurt endlessly.

My personal hell. Always the memories. Always the fucking memories. Of moments frozen in a past life. Things i could never change. Mistakes i couldn’t undo. A bloodied conscience. Gothic in its details.

A cocktail of emotions. All related to anger, pain and betrayal. And the final of them all, emptiness. It would hurt so bad, then i’d just go numb to it all and finally feel drained. Then i’d feel nothing. No pain. No pleasure. Nada. Just a former shell of who i once was.

I preferred the pain. Always did. That showed a part of me was human. I dreaded going numb. I knew what came next. Then i’d not really care. I’d go numb and pray for the pain to come back. To shock me back to life. But it never did. I just went numb and then hollow.

I’d empty out all my emotions. The wind would cease howling with a bang as i felt my soul close shut. And my image on the mirror inspired not a tinge of emotion. My tear-stricken face didn’t stir an iota of feeling in me. I just stared at myself without cause.

Eventually i’d slump back to a semblance of a life as i stirred awake. But the aftertaste of being empty never really left

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Posted by on March 19, 2015 in Writing


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