Release for a Trapped Soul

Anesthesia

 

Blood is very red

    Hellish thoughts of half remembered words

Spoken words

    Words spoken to me

Crazed things insane things

    things for my memory to dredge up

in a maelstromic nightmare

    To be pushed from my head

as I wake

    terrified

Clawing the sheets 

    Drenched in cold sweat

Biting my lips to keep the scream locked

    within

too horrified to even cry out

    Yet unable to call forth

the Crushing grip on my soul

    Tormented things told

While red blood spilt

    in the dusty hot attic

Motes playing tiredly in the drab sunbeam

    Everything was dirty

Everything-

    except the silver tracks

of my tears

    She told me they were silver

And I believed her

    I believed everything she said

While the sharp razor was

    poised

over one white wrist

    Her empty pale blue eyes were fixed

on the pale skin

    The entire time she spoke

her voice devoid of all emotion

    Her wilted daffodil hair

(Yes-oh yes I remember her hair)

    Her monotonic voice

her dead voice

    telling me things I should never have known

things I can't recall

    but for in crazy images of my subconscious

I screamed for her to stop

    to this day I am unsure

was it for her to stop this thing

    this-SIN

To halt the advancement of the

    flashing blade

(oh yes, the blade was

    clean as well

now it is even cleansed by

    blood of the lamb)

or did I plead in screeching tones

    to cease the flow of words

the words of fear-great

    fear

spearing for my soul

    causing the tears to rush

lancing my heart

    my head

Which was it to stop?

    none mattered to her

she did not stop either

    I cried out for God to save

but God was not there

    One thing I remember her telling me

she forced me to accept Truth

The Truth that He was never

    There to begin with. . .

And I saw her Truth

That is what I remember

    (is that what I live?)

And her empty blue eyes were

    fixed

upon those white banks

    with their twining rivers of blue

and green

    and lavender

And the flashing instrument came

    down upon those pale banks

causing eruptions of scarlet

    (was the razor flashing  silver

or did the sun merely reflect

    off my torrents of tears. . ?)

Then the other rivers were sundered

    plundered  

        squandered

   

lifewaterpouringdownenimowhatowhatcanidobuttoimustdosomethingpleaseopleasedon'

ttellmenoihavetosaveyoutoGodbutthereisnoGodpleaseoplease

    y o u   c a n ' t

Her eyes stopped staring at her wrists

    Blood is so very red