Cold Harsh Floor | By: Thomas James Malache | | Category: Short Story - Depressing Bookmark and Share

Cold Harsh Floor


Tied up and alone
This cold harsh floor
Bound and tied
Found and tried
Of something wrong and too much spent
Time has ticked away unused
Spiritually battered; my hearts been abused
Suffering the only thing
I’ve left to feel
All that’s real
Organized pain numbered and filed
Too much expecting of yesterdays child
Going out as this sight grows ever dim
Drowning in hate and choking on fear
Too far away and trapped in thick walls
Not enough strength to cry down these halls
All my fault
No treasures are sealed behind the steel
Of this heavily secured underground vault
Too tired
To even ask myself why
Questions to all the answers I’ve denied
No sorry could ever justify
The things I’ve pushed out from somewhere inside
Protect and serve
Protect and serve
In greed and safety and death
No more worries when I draw no more breath
Unsure
Unfocused
Unknowing of what and where and why
Cry?
Too what point
Or what solution?
Confusion
Having the stillness of silence when
In search of absolution
Not wanting to be saved
Only tortured and maimed
Tied to the tracks of an oncoming train
Delayed
Dismayed
To a point where I confess
Meaningless
These actions define my means
This nothing from nothing gives nothing
The loss of all I wanted
Ever wished
The way I live my life in bound and silent darkness
Unrest
Dead and rot in denying
Lying
To this screaming memory
That wants me still
An ends to being ill
But too weak to do nothing more
Than lay here bleeding
Emotionless and sore
Stiff and bruised
On this cold harsh floor

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