A Merciful Blue Hell

There he sat, alone in his darkened corner. The candle's flame flickered at it's end, like the dying embers of his soul. His fist clenching the bottle, a pained expression across his face. His eyes were sealed so tightly shut, as if to hold back the tears he wished would flow like dump valves.

The yearning, that need to be something. His hour of desperation stretched a life time beyond the imagination. He had grasped tirelessly to find a means he could call his. Failure was all he found, even in seeking the bottom. He was neither great nor wretched, just the average, the abysmal.

He used his free hand to stuff a cigarette between his lips and opened his eyes. Those once baby blue eyes that now bore shades of gray. Like a dulled surface, age had taken the spark from them. No longer did they twinkle with a hint of innocence, no longer did they scream desire. They were all but vacant, the whites ever so slightly clouded like that which one would find of a corpse. Again he used his free hand to ignite fire from it's tips. He took a deep drag, his cheeks sunk in, much as his will to fight. He exhaled, his exposed chest compressed. Thin to bone, one could play beautiful harmonies across his ribs if they were so inclined.

So tired was he, passing in and out of a conscious state. Taking time to puff and swig before sight became a blur. Every so often the subtle vibration of his phone and a common tone would play. His heart would skip and his eyes would open wide. He glared at the screen, which to his dismay was always prompted by something trivial.

His anger was only trumped by his feelings of neglect and loss. For twenty eight years he'd clung to a vain hope in a better tomorrow, in a belief of the trite cliche that it gets better in time. Had he slept? The taste of stale filter lingered in his mouth, he took another swallow from the bottle before turning upright and placing his feet on the floor. He sat the bottle down and placed his head within his hands, grasping at the nubs of his ever thinning hair. His expression still pained, his jaw shut tight like a vice. The muscles shown through, taunt, revealing a constant grinding that had existed since he was a child.

He could not reach bottom, too many had faith. He had reached out to god only to find him asleep. The constant contradictions were so maddening, he wished it to stop. Finally a tear graced his cheek, it fell slowly at first before gaining speed in the curves of his malnourished visage. A hint of relief hit him, like a tidal wave crashing upon the shores. This was not devastation, but it was certainly over far too soon.

"Men do not cry"

The voice rang over and over in his head, echoing from one corner to the next. The acoustics of the mind are damningly perfect in their imperfection. He grabbed his phone and stared. There she stood, awkward grin with bottle in hand. A few clicks later and the lone image of him with a smile appeared. Several more clicks and the ghosts of his past were in full view. He could not hate them, that was the one thing he reserved solely for himself. He missed them all and once again, the wave hit him, but no tear fell.

"Men do not cry"

The echo still would not subside. Of all he had loved, they were his passion and pain. His jaw let loose as he ran his hands through the bristles of his once long mane. He whispered softly into the dark, "So many of you have I done wrong..."

The rest trailed into his thoughts, bouncing around his mind.

"I loved you all, but I didn't know. I was never taught how to show. It burns so deep when I try to sleep. The things I've done and what has become. There's nothing left to right the wrongs of my life's song."

He let go his head and fell back flat, pushing another cigarette into his mouth he regained his grip upon the bottle and set ablaze his current need. His face was blank save the creases which signified the stress and torment of a boy who couldn't stop thinking. He gazed into the stained tiles of the ceiling, mesmerized by their likeness to his soul. He was far to young to think he was this old.