Lying in this queen size bed I realize, though I hold many thoughts of loved ones in my mind; I am all but alone.
As the flashes of my past haunt me during this unrealistic dream, the idea beckons me; I must find peace.
However, regardless of the attempts, I have yet to atone for my sins.
The blood on these hands cannot be cleansed by mere wishes.
And in turn, the life I have stolen cannot simply be wished back to reality.
So now, I find myself checking the corners of these four walls which construct the confines of my own hellish infamy.
I, the creator of my own agony, he who has thrust himself into oblivion seemingly unknowing to the life in which I currently occupy.
My mind races in perfect cadence to the beating of my heart, the tears teeming inside my eyes mere puddles to the rivers I have cried for you.
My fallen foes.
My past fatalities.
My definitions of being.
Though I knew not your names nor did I understand the language in which you spoke, you are me.
You are...
My everything.
And in that, I would trade you places instantly to release myself from this anguish.
The whips to the skin far better call to me than the everlasting gnashing of teeth and clawing of daggers across my mind.
©jarnmarr
J