Cinders

I have drowned in my own blood sank until I could find no air.
I remember screaming and no ear to hear,
I have cried bitter tears of agony.
I have slept sleepless nights.
I have died,
I am nothing.
Broken is what I am.
A shell of what I could be.
Wisdom all but gone and flattered away into nothingness.
Demons that taunt my very mind and beg me to do it.
Screaming in my ear as I sleep and entombing my dreams of painful death.
Old and tattered is no longer a semblance of my dreams.
Growing old just a vague daydream.
I am an old ember, burning a soft glow until I turn into nothing but a cinder.
A deep wound that is not fatal is what I feel.
Agony to my bones encompasses me,
And death smiles waiting.
I do not smile back.
Who can?
A Cyprus door trenched with mahogany.
A bloodied print on golden handle.

I dream of fire,
I dream of blood,
I dream of anguish and denial.
Then why do you drink in blood for your wine?
At one point I would die and cut out the weakness,
The part of me that made me weak and emotional.
Now I bear it like a heavy load that is soon to snap.
A bitter cold and a winter's dream.
I wish it were a dream and it would simply end,
But when you die in your dream,
Are you not supposed to awaken?
Then why am I still dreaming?
A fire burning deep in the core of every man.
To saturate it and extinguish it, so they piss upon the flame,
And end it just as it had begun.

For a time,
A brooding if you will,
I could not understand it.
Others being torn down so eloquently,
A disgrace to the male genome.
And it dawned upon my existence,
That not all men are created thusly.
What others would take as a time to build,
And to grow strong,
Others crumble and fall away into the mire.
An old deceitful liar.
A breaking of ones confidence over one girl?
Tis so.

Years, even before I was a man,
I was tempered by pain until I could feel it no longer.
Cuts as deep as bone I would wince but do no more thusly.
An anger and a sharp tongue can cut through even the thickest of metal.
And so,
I broke apart what was a boy, tearing apart what I was,
Searching for what made me weak,
And when I found it,
I did not smile, or weep.
I acknowledged it,
Slowly,
Studying how I reacted to events,
And recorded it like one would an alien species.
Nurturing it, and posing no threat,
And when it rises up to strike,
You kill it.

I found the pain,
And I filled myself with it,
Until everything else was just a dream.
I became a monster,
Thinking that somehow it would save me.
No,
Everything has a price.
And when you find the light again,
Someone who is willing to heal the pain.
You know that no matter how hard you try,
It is what you shall always be.
Just another ember, turning into a cinder.
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(c) Aaron D. 1/12/13