Their bodies and mine

Trapped in a circus, I feel as though I have fallen from a trampoline onto a steely mesh of barbed net. I will lay there till thorny wires cut through my flesh and splatter the pieces as trophies upon spectators. An ode to victory; this barbaric life sings through the metal as it deepens its magnetic teeth into what I once called, my essence. I can smell the copper wires. The naked stench reminds me of the copper vessels in the kitchen on that day, when, under similar circumstances, I had made a sport out of living. Or the other day, when the swizz knife playfully grazed my skin repeatedly, as my brain tried to comprehend.

A barren field all ploughed out is only home to cacti and scorpions.

An infinite number relationships are made in the course of life, some important some casual and some mistakes. The last four years are a heap of dead bodies rotting outside a gas chamber, silently polluting the air I breathe. These dead bodies are my failed relationships. I can’t get near enough to bury or burn them, the stench of decaying trusts is like a barrier, barricading an entire chunk of proof that I ever lived in that time. When I get out and start a new chapter, I want to have no memories of this time…the pain and betrayal. But, as I hit my head against the steel wall of my prison, desperately seeking amnesia, this rotting stink of my past is like a bell, that pulls me back to stand and look upon the dead and mourn my past.

A little or no value remains in my monument of life, as I set out, yet again to make carvings that may finally congeal. Symbols that might mean a language or a religion that may stick. A single belief that might hold to linger …or a life that may, even once, matter.

I have only a little courage left to indulge again. My efforts seem futile…the concept seems futile. I search on for that safe haven, where the heart stops thinking and the mind stops relenting. But, it’s all a distant hope, as I see new blood splatter on old dried stains. The same mistake, the same price and the same lesson, forgotten. If only now, my heart would surrender and call it a life and my abandoned brain would finally make it all worthwhile.

I could never fully grasp it. I don’t think I ever can. Maybe it isn’t real. Or maybe I'm just the fool again.