by: Seth K. Bainbridge
When life is bled dry by those demons that endure…
Of all your mistakes and sins, all the truths within each one of your actions, there was one thing missing. You thought you knew. You thought you knew what was to come of us. Or what was to come of you…
You would tell me “Twenty one is the beginning of the end. It’s when all the shit hits the fan. When all the fun goes out the window.” You were nineteen, and your body hit the pavement.
And of all the missing signs, all the truths I searched for in each one of your actions, there was one thing missing. You thought you saw all there was to see. That you knew of life’s tragedy when in reality you didn’t know a thing.
Things are different now. I fight my demons with heroin. I fight happiness with pain.
Because somehow, somewhere, I believe we never deserved it. We were never meant to be happy.
And roaming through life with your corpse hanging on my shoulder, I fight to free us both.
I fought to understand the brilliance of your act. Now I understand that you made yet another mistake. You deprived us of your presence. Your life was sucked out of you by the same demons I fight off.
I watch them drool over my weakness, feed off my fears and flaws, rendering me worthless.
Paint me red, paranoid, armed to the teeth, to fight all, all incoming love. Raised above and sunk below the pools of human scum. Roaming through life, like me. Like you once did.
