Stitches Worn

The ground is cold and hard under my knees. I feel the sweat pour along side the blood gushing from my brow. I watch three little puddles form on the ground; two under each fist and one under my chin. the blood drips and clings to my shirt and it looks as if it is trying to climb it's way back up inside me; it seems to succeed until another drip of lost life lands ontop of that one knocking it back down a millimeter. I hear his voice screaming in my ear;

"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, MY LOVE."

The voice is loud and angry. The voice shutters through my head like a reel of film ragged and ready to fall apart. This man has been following me for years now. Since my senior year; he hated the way I was and still hates the way I am. He is the one that beats me up like this. I look down into the shattered glass all over the ground. My dark brown business suit is wrinkled and caked in blood born mud. It smells like copper and dirt here; and it feels like home.

I feel another blood stain climb on my chest. My tie lays off in a corner somewhere where he used it to cut off my windpipes and to try to dominate me. I bring my fist up loosen it and allow the hand to gently wipe the blood and slobber off the corner of my mouth. and I take the opportunity to also spit a wad of blood into the puddles forming beneath me. the three pudles slowly grow into one large puddle.

"YOU ARE A MONSTER; JUST LIKE ME, MY LOVE"

I get this speeech every night. Everytime I am reminded. The memory lies in ever sip of water, every step I take, every drop of piss I release. The name is written in my heart and through out my veins. the name is carved solemnly into my wrists; a failed attempt to stop this man's inscentent following. my stomach churns and the thought dawns on me tha ti may have swallowed to much of my own blood. I feel the churning acidic mixture works its way back up my esophagus, until he closes it off when a nicely placed punch to the throat.

Unfortunately, the attempt to prevent anything from coming out; also stops anything form coming in and I can feel the oxygen around me clinging to my face; but not my lungs. I gasp and fight to choke down teh vomit mess and some glorious O2 with it. I hate how he does this to me; makes me want to die.. but still forces me to fight for life.

"COME NOW, LOVE, ARE YOU A FIGHTER?! ARE YOU STRONG? COME NOW PROVE IT TO ME. GET BACK UP...."

How tough am I? how could I allow this man to haunt me for this long; I should have killed him off a long time ago. Strangled him, or thrown him in the river. dropped his body in acid and completely dispose of every memory. that he ever existed. I struggle to my feet.

"You are a pussy, my boy. Plain and simple"

I lash out hitting only air. I feel the veins in my arms burn with the blood flow. I hear the twangy sound of my arm coming out of socket. I give in eventually and crumble back down to the floor. I see my blood shiny and reflecting his face into myne.

I see the knife in his hand and feel it looming nearer to the precious juggular that carries the name.

"Come now, are you a warrior? or a warrior princess?!"

His laugh cuts through me like steam through adhesive; tearing the very bonds of my reality and sanity. As I feel it all slipping away I scream;

"YOU ARE THE WORST SCUM ON THE PLANET, MY LOVE. YOU BOY ARE A WASTE OF HUMAN LIFE AND A WASTE OF EVERYONE'S TIME. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, YOU FRAUD. YOU SACK OF SHIT. YOU BOTTOMLESS ABYSSMAL PIT OF SUFFERING. I HOPE YOU DROWN IN YOUR SORROW AND DIE. I AM GOING TO FOLLOW YOU ON YOUR BACK UNTIL YOU DIE WHY NOT TAKE IT NOW..."

I roll into a little fetal ball on the floor begging for theese voices to stop screaming at me. I drop the knife I held clenched in my hand. my fingers begin to tingle, having blood circulation cut off by the bastard. I crawl; crying, sweating, bleeding, and drooling to the little mattress on the round; roll into the brown stained dirty filled blanket and sleep with the cock roaches and bettles that would enjoy me as a meal.

"You brought it upon yourself my love... you hurt her; now you must pay. Living life like this worthless shit you are. But, you still got me; that's a plus right. Sorry my love. you know what they say; the ones you love the most, wind up hurting you the most. and vice versa. guess we are having a bit more versa than vice here though; eh."

I hear the voice quiet and dangerous.

"You ever think for one second you have deserved happiness; you were wrong. Everytime I have given you joy you have fucked it up. and I am tired of it my love. So, here you are damned to me. Worse than hell; god I hope so. YOu don't deserve a break you don't deserve forgiveness. From her, from me, from yourself. It is all your fault every last bit of it. and for that you deserve a fate worse than death. A lonely, and cold hell. That's right my love. I am taking the only benefit of hell away from you. Your tan. there is no fire here what so ever.. no comfort.. GET RID OF THE BLANKET.."

The blanket tumbles to my feet I feel a dozen little legs scamper of my stomach.

"I'm not going to let you sleep. because your dreams are an escape. YOu can dream of before you fucked up. you don't ever deserve a second chance; real or iamgined. I am your god; and you are the disciple flawed."

I feel the knife on my arm again; digging in down to the vein; down to the pain; down to the stain.

"You don't deserve love, my love. You deserve torment..."

I pull the knife out and see the angry 16 year old looking back at me. the 16 year old that had hopes and dreams; that I never could match. The kid, the man, the boy, the child... the face disappears leaving the bleeding, scarred failure he became.

"Live long and never prosper."

The laugh seems to fade but it still booms as I watched the moon rise into the window frame on the east. I have a long night ahead of me...