You find yourself walking down the dark mangled street and think to yourself,
This is not for me,
Why have I been chosen?
Is this madness a part of my reality or is it a mere psychosis?

What love can you find?
What hope?
What dreams?
The bubbling oil that courses through your veins,
Making you hot, sick, vomit,
The blood that calls your name.

What strangled webs we weave when first we maim and deceive.
The cries from the dead beckon us,
Pleading with us, “We'll take you away…”

“No,” you said, “you cannot have me.”
“You cannot have my flesh, my bones, my blood.”
“My soul is mine to keep. I will not give in,” you thought.

The night comes rapidly.
Embracing you,
Taunting you,
Pleasing you.
Relief may come,
Or it may not.

You chose the road that veered down the haunting wood as your past chose the lighted street busied by the evening traffic.

“Release me from this madness!” you cry as the screams echo louder and louder into the night,
Tearing into your brain.
“Rip out my heart,” you scream. But there was silence falling on deaf ears.
The pain is endless as eternity.

The lights dim, and through the darkness of society, shine a light.
The light that craves you,
That needs you,
That is the other half to your whole.
That is warmth, and joy, and love....

It draws you near and you take a breath.
Breathe in the life that you live,
Breathe in the hope that you give.
Just breathe.

11/11/2001

Posted on 11/15/2002
Copyright © 2024 Stephanie Myers