My throat closes off, and
I struggle to breathe through the lump.
Bloodshot eyes stare into the night,
as if somewhere out there
is the answer I'm praying for
to the question I'm afraid to ask...
Will I forever be haunted by these memories?
Somewhere, rocks are
falling
off a cliff, landing with a loud
thud
on the canyon floor,
and I wonder if I should join them
falling,
jumping,
anything to get out from
under
the flashbacks.
I need
a way to end my memories
without losing my mind,
a way to erase the abuse
without erasing myself.
I shiver in the night air,
too tired to fight the terror
that hides just below the surface
waiting
patiently
for the perfect moment of weakness
in which to attack
and watch me fall
through the darkness
to the canyon floor,
a fractured body
but no longer a fractured mind.
And in the stillness
I wonder...
Which one is truly worse?