Silence, My Friend

Silence, My Friend
by Mike Pollock

Everything wasted
a weight from which I cannot move
A reminder of things done wrong,
woefully wrong...

A list of excuses, written in blood
pins my eyelids shut.
My heart beats shallow
erratic
angry at this prison I'm confined to.

Darkness seeps in at every crease and tear
Coldness, like icy fingers kneading at my jaw
Desolate and destraught.
Are they only words?
Or are they my motto.

I'm deserving of only one thing
Nothing.
I am neither willing, nor willful
I have nothing left but these remnants of my promise.

Promises to myself, to you
to them and to her.

My only freedom comes between beats of this battered heart.
In the silence that is the slowing of my blood.
Scattered to the winds are my ambitions
Tattered is the flag I used to bear...

The crimsons and the burnt colors of my soul
rage out of control as if the world itself were fuel.
I am angry.
I am angry.
I am... angry...

Hot tears crest my swollen cheeks,
vainly evaporating under the heat of my hatred.
How can one man, so full of life,
be perverted into a heaping pile of flesh and despair?

Mirror Mirror on my wall
Who has wasted more than all?
The words echo in my head
falling unheard to the ground...
my answer is in the silence.