TheBanyanTree: Enough

[R J Fernalld]

Enough. I have had enough of pity, kindness and consoling pats on the head
to last me a lifetime. I suppose they all mean well, but damn... What I
really want is the lost time this hateful thing stole from me.

I want back the hair I lost. I want back the hours that I gave over to fear
of bloody dressings and cold hands. I want you to come back to me with
better news than you plan to leave me untouched to sweat out the outcome
alone. Life is too much of an unforgiving obstacle course for those it
weakens. Who gave this thing permission to carry away my strength, to fly
away with my resolve, to reduce me to this puddle of tears, fears and
sorrow?

Come back...please? Rescue me?

The mirror gives only shadows of what I once was. This living death is
killing the last hopes I hid away for tomorrow. Well tomorrow arrived today
and with it dissolved the last youthful hope. The closet is an empty echo
full of remembered prayers that were rejected. Why the hell would anyone
continue to pray to a darkness void of ears? Why do I do it? The evidence
suggests the darkness about me is mute.

What a fool. I still strive, groping with crippled heart and empty hands to
feel something reaching back for me. Pathetic. I grapple with the air and
finally remember I cannot fly.Then it's the falling with that inevitable
thud back onto the bed that entombs me. Absurd woman. Insanity would be my
next trick if I could just let go enough to manage it. 

Come back...please? Rescue me from myself? 

The foul gangrene stopped eating my body but never gave up devouring my soul
 I am unassuaged by anti-depressants...they too are all just too damned
depressing. I can't escape the fear that the drive-by hit won't return. I
cannot reduce the chances of losing yet again the choices it ripped away
from me. Living isn't anything more than awaiting the death that will come
like a thief or a stalker ready to pounce. Each cell screams at my brain
that death must be hiding around the next blemish, the next fever the next
red spot.

Come back ...please? Oh God, please rescue me?

Never mind. You're not really there. The night and the pills can rescue me
enough. At least they are reliable. Good night whoever you are.

copyright R J Fernalld 2004