Lost XLV


  
There comes a time to let go.
The time is now. Not tomorrow.

The past does not matter. It’s gone.
Yet not forgotten as it should be.
Am too much of a sadist to let it abandon me.
I’ve come to like the pain, its sadomasochistic thrill.
Not what you would get from a needle or pill.
No. The pain comes from inside.
Fermenting bile spewing an acrid stench that rides high.

There comes a time to let go.
The time is now. Not tomorrow.

Happy. Was never a choice.
Never a moment of a dream that would fill.
A life to walk and talk as if heavens garden invited me in.
Open arms by saints and angels and all the goody two shoes living in that space.
White robes and glowing halos playing Go Fish with a smiling face.
Eating make believe chips and dip.
Washed down with barrels of rum and beers.

There comes a time to let go.
That time is now. Not tomorrow.

Hate comes and goes.
It lives and breathes and it grows.
It grows stronger on lazy days like Sunday.
It seems as if the world sleeps.
So quiet, the silence is deafening.
Even the shocking blast of a cartridge fired.
Is Lost in the thoughts exploding in my head.

There comes a time to let go.
That time is now. Not tomorrow.

The walls that surround, they keep enclosed this soul of mine.
Painted white from floor to ceiling, it reminds me of cold frosty winters.
Snow piled high, the frozen air punching the lungs dry.
Yet a peace overwhelms at this time of year.
As a happy courage won, another battle of sorrows tears.
Survived the yesterdays, living today for a better tomorrow.
An unfired cartridge lays sleeping, in the chamber of a gun.

There comes a time to let go.
That time is now. Not tomorrow.

Ax