"... the guilt of things I can’t escape
and will not cut me loose..."

As I stare up at the parapet
of what life could have been,
the rack of pain and suffering
between my bones and skin,
facing the last of my mistakes -
as my body turns to stone,
while everyone I’ve ever loved
has left me here alone.

As I feel the breeze through open screens
from doors I locked and latched,
the bridges torched along the way
cannot be reattached,
receiving just what I deserve
a fear that will not cease,
that all the slips of character
will never give me peace,
even the demons who tortured me -
for years within my soul,
abandon this broken empty mind
to face the end alone.

As I lose my faith in fairytales
of forgiveness and of grace,
the darkness fills my life of cause
with steps I can’t retrace,
the foolishness of how I’ve lived
constricts my thoughts and noose,
the guilt of things I can’t escape
and will not cut me loose,
the truth of terror weighs on me
for I know there’s no one left,
to comfort me when Karma comes
to steal my dying breath,
to know that none will really care -
when dead and truly gone,
accepting truth I finally take
these lonely steps…

Original Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written October 2008
About Stone...
Known in many (albeit small) online circles over the past 15 years, Stone Bryson is a poet, storyteller, and essayist. He is working on various writing projects, and lives what he describes as an 'analog life.' He resides in Jackson County, Missouri.

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