agonistes_vental

As my friend step away from the door,as he let the door fall back into line that little draft hit me hard.As the smell of loneliness began to call.The odd silence that filled this death decayed house.I sit alone with my brother.He is all that keeps me company when the nights grow dark and restless.His name Scott a 7 year old veteran of life.Stubby legs,jagged teeth,and a cruel taste for human blood,but he is my brother and I his.We get alone when we don't fight,he knows that there is a sadness that glooms nearby.The scent of death creeps upon this house scratching and screaming to let it come in from the cold.The dead of night arrives soon.And again I am alone.
These last few days have been such a blur,been such a dream,so unreal and feelingless.I know it comes not of death but the mute sounds of my family as they cry,as they weep over a corpse that will be laid to rest tomorrow.Those tears and hurt flowing witihn their veins,well it does bother me on there behalf.I hate it for them to see the void of life and death,memories and unspoken words.But I sit here alone in this countryside home,away from life,away from society,away from humanity.I pack my mind full ofm usic and bleed the needle of belief upon my skin as I find myslef searching for some way to soar in this dark hour.I know something is in store,something of a act comming to the funeral tomorrow.My body aches,it jumps,and crawls.Something far greater than death rises unto my family members tomorrow.I know it,taste it,and crave it.
But I sit here alone,alone physically,emotionally,mentally and spiritually.A damned man of ways and honor lies cold and burdened with the soft pleasure of pain cutting at my heart.To be solitary,to be a solitary man,walking for the world yet the world never recognizes my touch.A shadow cast deep over my bruises and wounds and still I fight on to do my bidding.I love this life but I can only feel so much.For as each hour,minute,second fall hard into the past I realize that I grow older and my heart sits alone in the park.Waiting for flowers to bloom in death's wake.I only wish to be heard and seen for the man I am.Tis why I am tired,tis why I hurt.............a wounded healer.