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Part One:
"It's time again," I think as I pull a ring from my pocket holding a thousand or more very small keys.
Maybe this time it will be easier,
maybe this time I will be able to forget,
maybe this time it will work.
I reach the door I set out to find,
take an instant to inhale to my last honest breath,
and unlock it.

My prisoner inside has no idea that she's even contained,
that she's so damaged inside that she's actually already dying in here.
But it's hard for me to accept that I'm the cause of her suffering.
Yes, I am the sole reason for this plague upon her
because after all this is me,
a little part of me that has become to big to handle.
She's killing me as much as I'm killing her.

Her thoughts swim in the notion that love has place for her now.
And in this room where these ideas are her chains
and her hope is the knife she wields so perfectly, she is torturing me.
Showing me what I thought I could have,
telling me I can have it,
repeating hope that soon I will care again.

I can no longer listen to these idle threats,
I can no longer believe her,
and so today, my resolution will be born, as I grab her by the hand, and uncuff her.
Gently, I lead her from this glass prison.
Slowly, I give her promises of a new day.
Bracingly, I tell her not to be afraid,
"We're just going on trip, that's all.
A small walk around to stretch our legs," I lie through my teeth,
and my conscious begins to beat against this soon to be atrocity.

I could run away, as I have so many times,
but I cannot this time,
now it will be different
and I know,
it will be better this way
and my silent tears fall,
becoming icicles before they strike the ground.

I try to hide them from her, but she sees.
She always sees me crying.
She always there in the mirror asking me why,
and this time is no different.
I answered her question before she had even asked it.
"I'm just so happy that's its snowing,
I haven't seen it snow a long time,"
another not-so-white lie pulsing out from this body draped in deceit.

We're almost there now I think,
at last,
I no longer have to listen to her speak of the sky
I forgot so long ago,
or hear her weave tales of passionate embraces
that live only in my memory.
No longer will I have to hear her sing
those sweet melodies of the dreams I've secretly written off.

Soon,
Soon,
this will all end,
it will be over, and I will be here,
and she will be dead.

I risk a glance at her dancing in the wind,
I'm caught and she smiles,
that intoxication of hope;
I can still back out there is still time to run away and forget I ever thought to do this!
No, I have to be the rock,
I have to finish what I started.

Approached at long last by the tree holding my intentions in its branches,
my whispers persuade her to leave this forest of death behind,
the voices in my head tell me to say,
but as we near this doorway to fatality,
she looks back at me;
she knows;
she sees;
she always sees me crying,
as I am right now holding hands with this rope,
I shackle her to the tree.

Holding her hands high I crucify her in place,
but she never cries
she just says,
"search,"
melancholy on her breath as she closes her eyes.
I will not be there when she opens them,

I've left her,
left her ideals
and hope behind.

"This not a time for the past,
no matter how recent, this is a time for now,"
I convince myself
as I walk away without a backward glance.
Nothing else matters, maybe now I can move on
I've heard that freezing to death is like falling asleep anyway.


Part Two:
Sitting as plainly as I could in a room
I let her think she keeps me in,
I wait.
I wait for her footsteps that will eventually be my death.

She has been planning for me to recognize my mortality
for some time.
Today, I know is the day.
Everyday arises the same, but I know
that I will not ever see the sunset again.
This day for me will never end

The echoing sound
of her shoes is heard as snow clouds roll in.
She unlocks the door she thinks I'm
imprisoned behind.
She lies through her teeth
about taking a much need walk,
and I smile.

And I even cry inside for her
because she thinks my mortality
will set her free.
But she doesn't realize,
She doesn't see that I'm her way out.

I am the hope she has built walls around,
stones cast into cement with impatience.
She continues to hide, and see her tears.
I'm always there.
I always see her crying.
She already has answer though,
before I can even form a thought she answers
that her frozen tears are from the snow,
and nothing more.

I choose to enjoy my last few moments of the
breath that I was created in as I inhale,
though I'm not there at all.
I never could breath,
hope as no need to breath.
I'm not afraid, because I am permanent.
You can beat down the weary with clubs
but you can never rid the world of hope
because someone
somewhere will find me again
because
someone will always search.

It's in her eyes now as her tears fall more freely.
I am to be a martyr for her new found thoughts processes.
She seizes me, but I would willfully go.
I'm tied and hung from the rope she wields so perfectly.
She doesn't see that
she ties herself to this tree as she binds me.
She doesn't know that
she is alone hammering nails into her own hands
as I float above her
singing that I am eternal.
Life is always circling above us like vultures.

She looks me in the eye
and she still doesn't know.
She's still crying,
but I knew.
I always see her crying.

I blink
these eyes I know will never see her again,
at least not like this.
Not until she's ready.
But until then I will wait.
And as she turns away to leave me
I say.
"Search."