Don't remember much about life...
I don't remember my girlfriend that one summer, or the football game that cold Spring. Or the way my brother yelled at me, and the way my sister sings.
I don't remember much, and I'm here to admit it. I'm here to give secrets, and not to keep them hidden. And although I've limited my thought to a cheesy rhyme, I trust you'll read these sentences, from time to time.
I walked home sore from a terrible beating, knowing that for sure I was definitely bleeding. And with one shoe
I strode into the house, knowing that all that greeted me was a cat and a mouse.
But on that day there was no pet there, no one to love and no one to care. Limping to my room soaking wet, my eyes welled up with tears, as the sun began to set.
“Damn this Soul!” I said with a shiver, knowing that all my words were, were bows in a quiver. Staring outside into the bleeding clouds, I looked to my wrists then looked around.
Behind me! I whispered to the demon at my side, pleading to the knife to strike my side. I looked at every crack in the broken, dusty room, until my eyes rested on a paper cocoon.
Behind my rusty desk, and under my heavy books, was a rolled up wad of comic books. Opening the yellowed pages with bitter boredom, I found a page that was bathed in stardom.
In the corner of the book was a boy like me, slow to think, but quick to speak. Around him stood men laughing and crying, pointing to the boy that inside was dying.
My eyes whisked across the torn up page, until I realize I was not longer in a cage. This boy grew stronger, quicker, and mightier, he lept across the page, making my soul brighter.
He defeated my demons, and told them to leave, the knife at my desk no longer wished to cleave. He told me of his friends, one covered in the flag, another one on fire, and another, living mire.
As I write this in my bed, watching the darkness spread, I wish to show them my gratitude and give them their solitude.
For although I become lifeless, and stare into the nothingness, they will remain standing, and the world, demanding