I cannot get it out;
the thought of you
as I pushed you over the rail,
over the rail,
severing the link;
burning our minds apart in my drunken stupor.
I still dream-
nightmare-
of it every night.
I try to drown it out
with vodka and whiskey;
rum and beer;
alcohol,
alcohol,
alcohol!
I try so hard to forget;
forget your face as you clawed my back in desperation;
behind me,
crying to me
for me to stop,
for me to think,
for me to breathe,
for me to hold you and shush you and tell you it's okay,
for me to stop and do all of that.
How little you understood as I let you fall,
tumbling over the rail,
fear flaring through my mind
as it consumed yours.
The first breath of water you took,
the first drop of blood you spilt,
the first times.
All the first times;
I was your firsts.
All of yours.
I'll never forgive myself for letting you drown.
YOU ARE READING
Paralyzed
PoetryOkay, this started out as a thought book, turned into a rant book, and so far, it's become a thought book again. How many other changes will it go through, I don't know, nor do I care. This is sort of a public journal but not really because I hate t...
