I can't let them go
I can't live them down
They keep going through my head
Like a hamster running around
I see anger and sadness
Betrayal and favorites
I can dispel the demons in my own mind
As I remember all the cards I was dealt
Cards of poison
Cards of time
Cards of death
Cards of abuse
These cards of mine
They are my memories
That I'd rather forget
But these drugs and this broken body
Won't let me let go yet
I see the hatred in their eyes as my own blood looks at me
They'd rather I was dead
But then where would they be?
Who would they cling to, to shove their pain on?
Who would they poison to make their sleep sound?
Purify me
Suck the poison out
I don't want to see them anymore
They fuel every ounce of doubt
About the Creator
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Disarmament
They say there's no atheism in the foxhole. While I wasn't currently neck-deep in a river of soft sediment, I was still praying to whoever would listen. Why am I doing this again? I would ponder while staring at the device that in no less than a minute could be my undoing. I scanned each and every variable panel and commonplace button as I watched the bright red L.E.D ticker countdown. No wires to cut, no code to put in, there was only one way to stop this infernal machine, and that incurred perfect timing.
By James U. Rizzi3 days ago in Fiction
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