Sunday, February 10, 2013

traverse




















It makes me want to kill myself, this want, this need. I should have stayed away. Especially since I knew I am prone to addiction. I should have stayed away. But I did not. That could be because, apart from being prone to addiction, I am also self-destructive. I run, not walk, on the path that leads to my own destruction. I always fall for the paths that lead me there faster. 

This is my story. 

The one in which I run, and not the one I can run away from.

People.

People like horizontal beams and vertical beams, criss-crossing my path.
Some I jump over, some I stamp, some I tread around, some; I trip over.
A very few, I hang onto.
One, I hang myself upon.
Perhaps that, that would stop the unstoppable twitch in my face, the restlessness that corrodes me, from the inside out, kill the bug in my brain and the ache in the heart of the marrow of my bones.
Perhaps it would make obscure, the stinging throb in my temples, by making me obsolete.

The stinging throb somewhere inside my head that makes me sick, that carves up and fills the pith of my stomach with pit.



It makes me want to throw up, to puke my guts out.

Like a ball of cat’s hair stuck in my throat scarping every tissue that it comes in contact with
making me bleed and when I open my mouth, it feeds the cycle, fuels it further by a sickly mix of my blood
and saliva and the roaring moan of my intestines.

But I digress.

Be the one, that ends this for me. Be the one, that makes me end this. Be the one who redeems me by destroying every breathing cell in my body. Burn them all down. Burn them down till the last one and when you are at the last one, hold it in your palms, and crush it, slowly, taking your time, crush it in a way that it never multiplies. 

Be the bridge, the ladder, the path that helps me traverse.
The path that leads me there faster than any other.

And such deep is the want, the need, the addiction, that even after I am spent, scraped beyond my skin and my flesh and my soul, scraped to the point that my skeleton becomes thin and transparent, I shall say these as my parting words,
"see you on the other side" 

- from the Book of Traverse

bellyacher