I was you, you were me.
I killed you, you killed me.
It was a crime that I did it to you.
It was a crime you did it to me.
Why am I the only one imprisoned?
Why am I the only one with bloodstains on his hands?
You are gone, I am still here.
I'm not so sure that's a good thing.
Because now I am completely alone.
With a total absence of everything.
Do I still believe?
Do I not believe any more?
The one thing I do know is that I do not know.
I am condemned.
I am cursed by my own words.
Where do I go from here?
When here is nowhere.
I regret everything I regret.
I left you lying dead on the ground.
But, I feel as though I am the one who's dead.
I am a ghost.
Neither here nor there.
Life no longer exists for me.
But then again, it never did.
There is no such thing as freedom.
I walk in the shadows.
I prefer it that way.
How am I supposed to believe with this black cloud looming over me?
Why has agony consumed me?
I know that I am guilty.
I punish myself every day.
I torture and torment myself.
I almost derive perverse pleasure from it.
It's almost like I'm killing myself all over again.
As I live in a prison of my own making.
Six walls and darkness absolute.
I scratch and I claw.
Even though there is no hope for escape.
Here I will remain.
This time I will wither and flake away.
I will crack and crumble to minute dust.
With no legacy left.
No one ever cared.
No one will ever care.
The no good son.
The wayward one.
The prodigal.
I killed you, you killed me.
I am no more, you are no more.
Just two lost souls, now become one.
But the end is the same.


1 comment:

  1. I took from many experiences in my ;life and put them into one abstract story.
    A story about the eternal battle within.
    Between the self who wants to be and the who wants to be.


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