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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 22:48:17 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 112745
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Memories of a dying man
[time] => 2006-01-07 19:21:25
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I feel the burning closing in around me. I can escape if I want to. I know I can. Can I escape? The floor is uncomfortable. It's worse than laying on rocks. My heart is racing and my blood is flowing as fast as I am breathing. In my mind, I'm going back. I'm thinking about everything. The first time I saw the love of my life. Our time alone. Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes... Her beauty. So why did I do what I have done? To be honest, I still don't know. The money was too tempting. It forced me to take the offer. Now, because of it, I am in a position that I just couldn't avoid. I guess it was just wishful thinking though, wouldn't you agree? Both mine and my wife's dreams could have been brought to reality. We could raise our unborn child in complete tranquility. If I did get out, I could run, right? You can escape any problems, just by running. Well I think so... They wouldn't understand my reasons. They just wouldn't understand. I'll be able to tell them soon. Hopefully not too soon. If they can forgive, we can all rest together. All of us. Surreal. It's common knowledge that stupidity can be created with ease. It can be created and taken on-board in the click of a finger. Why can it not be destroyed and thrown away like any other? Why can it not be just a bad dream. A terrible dream. It is a dream. We don't know a name for our child. Not yet, anyway. I guess we'll just figure that out when it's born. When we know its gender. We have plans for it though, but we don't believe in forced lifestyle. Whatever the case, I hope to God it chooses the right path. One thing I want the child to know for sure... He or she can trust in me with anything in the world. Whether it be insecurity, or even murder. It will NOT be murder. Mark my words. You know, our house is beautiful too. It overlooks the clear stream in the fields. Oh my God, is it beautiful. I can't wait to go home. The thought will keep my smiling. It's got four bedrooms, which is a little inconvenient but still amazing. When I first saw it, I knew it'd make a great surprise. Jesus, was she surprised... I guess you had to see her face - her smile - to know what I mean. It only got better as I told her that it was ours. So much better. It's nothing like this place... The pain from the wound is beginning to spread. I can feel it. From my stomach, upwards. I can feel the blood streaming down onto the floor. Christ, how much have I bled? This is *****. Maybe it's time to get up and go now. I should really make a move. The temperature is rising and the flames are spreading pretty rapidly. If I leave it for too much longer just because I want to remember... There'll be no chance to escape. That's the problem with me. I lose focus when I begin to talk too much. When I was a kid, it was the worst. In school, I'd just talk and talk and talk. Because of that - A messed up habit - I'd get into LOTS of trouble. Too much. Moving is proving to be tougher than I thought it would be. I'm trying, but, everytime I do, the most gloomy, sick feeling is sent through me. Can a stab wound cause sickness? I've never thought about it before. I never thought I'd be stabbed at all. My back feels a little messed up as well actually. It's almost as if the blade hit one of my nerves. I can barely move. My God, I hope I can move. I'm sweating, I'm tired and I'm alone. What happened here? There's nothing to hold on to. Nothing I can use to grab and pull myself away. Did they lock the door? Did they block the windows? I can't see. I can't turn my head. This is becoming worse. I can feel it all the way through me. It's like I'm slowly becoming more and more unable. I don't think my parents would be too proud of me. Are they watching? "Mum, can you see me now? Can you hear me... Help, please. I'm in trouble and I need help..." I'm not the soft type of guy. I'm pretty tough I guess. A tear made its way down my cheak, joining the pool of blood on the floor. Why? "Where are you?" I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I keep asking myself if this is all nothing but a stupid dream. A dream has never been so real. The difference between a dream and reality is spread so far across. This is real. Once more, I'm so sorry. But I'm not ready to go yet. This is not my time to die. I can get out of hear, I really can. If only there was something to hold on to. My left arm feels numb. I can't move it too well. My right arm is fine though, but there's nothing nearby I find, as I reach out. All I can really feel is the temperature rising tremendously. I can't give up, but my eyes are closed. God knows why, but my eyes are closed. The memories of life are flooding back to me as if they were taking place before me. "I feel it too." She's there. In front of me, right now. What happened to the flames? What happened to the pain? I'm ok. I can feel myself move. I can feel myself smile. Everything is going to be fine, and there is still so much to live for. I see her move her lips as she lies in my arms. I hear nothing. Maybe it's just a phase. I can see what she says though. It's simple. 'I love you so much.' I can't even hear myself talk as I tell her that I love her too. She's smiling. She has the most beautiful smile. She is the most beautiful woman. Everything I felt not thirty seconds back has vanished. Everything I saw has been swept away. I feel a rush of adrenaline. It's so fast. I'm becoming dizzy. It's just like smoking your first ever cigarette over again. That dizzy feeling. Jesus, it feels good to be back. Why is she looking at me like that. In her eyes: Shock, regret, sadness. A tear. She disappears. This is wrong. This is so wrong. Unreal. Heat, numbness and pain. The only things that are real. The tears are coming like clockwork now. I know what I'm going to lose. I'm going to leave a perfect life behind, and I don't have a good reason. There is only one reason. "I am too weak." Pathetic. For a moment there, I thought I was dreaming when she came into sight. I thought I was going to get the chance to hold my child. Right now, God, I'd give anything... Just to hold her again. Just to see one smile of happiness and serenity on my child's face. There's nothing I can do. Nothing at all. I give up. Maybe you're sick and tired of hearing this, but I am so, so sorry. And I will always love you... I am ready to go now. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 151 [topic] => 32 [informant] => KasPeR88 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => SadPoetry )
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