Morning Phlegm

I remember everything, every scar, every torment, every whisper of agony you blew through me. I've never wanted this, this pain, this suffering, these words which morph into thoughts and scrape down my soul, eating at every ounce of hope and happiness that remains. "Why" is just a word which has no meaning anymore and weighs down on me like a mountain made up of unanswered questions. What did I do that was that bad? What did I do that was that evil? Why was I left alone to fade before I even lived? Spineless and twisted as I am I can't even shed a tear for anyone but myself and my desires. Left for dead I was. On the floor of filth and disease. Brought up to drown in my own, brought up to be condemned in a maze of madness. Brought up to be drowned by the hands of God. Over and over again not knowing why or if it would ever end. Phlegm and filth are all I've known to the extent that others can't differentiate between myself and it.  I crave for death ...

I walk alone in a forest of darkness, I just keep walking to find the unsearchable. I come across a wooden house with no windows and a door which is unlocked and invitingly open. I know deep down I must walk past and not enter but something pulls me within and makes me enter this house of doom and darkness. As I enter I see someone crawled up in a corner hiding in his own shadow. I walk up to him and ask "who are you"? "Why are you here"? "What are you hiding from"? "Why are you afraid"? "Why don't you speak"? "What is your history"? "Where did you come from"? "Why are you alone"? "Do you hear"? "Can you see"? "Do you have any enemies"? "Do you have any friends"? "When were you born"? "How long have you lived here"? I get no answer as if I'm talking to a dead corpse that breathes but doesn't move or speak. Who is he? Why is he here?...

There is a no peace here no semblance of any hope. I lay here waiting for either death or you to enter knowing well that there's no difference between either and yet I wait patiently. The screams don't give up and just keep waiting for the silences to engulf them knowing well that your memories keep raping every chance of that ever happening. They suffer just as much as I do and they put up with me as I do with them. I look out the window as that's barely all this body lets me do now. It betrayed me at birth as you did at death. Not being able to move hasn't been the issue for me as I was always chained to this world which constantly raked its nails of repercussion and revenge down my back. The blood painted world in which I hoped for a life in was just a dream constructed of those bleeding scars that were left behind to remind me of those chains. I wonder if it's colder outside or in here? I watch my breath as it also wants to leave me as you did, as everything...

So much time has past and I sit here trying to comprehend everything. Why am I here? Where will I go? What I have done? Does it have a purpose? If there is action, then there is accountability and am I accountable? I certainly feel accountable, responsible for every word spoken and breath taken. I feel my wrists as I look up out the window and can feel those chains gripping at them like a vice trying to prevent my blood from escaping. Chained to this immortal body which doesn't forget me for a moment not giving me a break or even a chance to breathe. Why? How long do I have to keep drowning in this vacuum called life? Where nothing grows except my sins which stab and turn in me every time I remember you. In a field where everything just decays and rots, how can there be hope? It's so cold in here that I can see my breath freeze in time. I look at it from all angles watching it's sculptured beauty. How can a breath from the most darkened of places have any beauty? A brea...