hate, desire, and evil
the crashing noise of the cascade
below triggers a feeling of joy
in my cataclysmic mind.
it is not often that i am filled
with the warming sense of jubilation
and it frightens me.
i look around.
no one is there.
i look down at my toes
gripping the edge
of the what is now my fence
that holds me back from my fate below.
i look down.
never has the water below
looked so inviting…
i lean forward and
let my gravity take me down
but the hands of an
old friend push me back up.
my conscience.
the joy is gone.
i ask him to—
no, i plead him
to leave but he does not budge.
his hollow form grows larger
and larger
as i walk closer to my fate.
his eyes pierce through me.
his heartbeat grows stronger,
and more and more in sync with mine.
this infuriates me.
i start to cry.
why would he leave me at
such a young age and leave me in harms way?
why wasn't he there to stop me
from making all of my horrid mistakes
and tortures.
his lack of presence was a constant whip
on my mental being.
a driving force of the monster i became.
but why does he show up here?
before my final moments?
when i do not need him?
i am not a monster he tells me.
“but why do i feel i am?”
i ask.
he grabs a pile of rocks and
throws them down the waterfall.
“are these not rocks?
they were not like this before. no,”
he continues,
“they were all once together.
forming a boulder.
up here but over time,
things came and
went breaking it apart.
yet after all the years of being separated…
they still remain up here.”
he looks hard into my eyes.
“you cannot blame yourself for my disappearance,
for emotions disappearance or for love’s.”
he sighs,
“… somethings are never supposed to stay together.
hate,
desire,
and evil
stayed with you and
led you down the wrong path.
they led you here.
now, it's your job to bring us back together.
not as separate beings
but as one.
you.”
i cannot forgive him.
he lead me here.
it is not my fault
i am a monster
but the voices in my head tell me it is.
they brought me here.
three voices:
hate,
desire,
and evil.
i start to weep.
schizophrenia they call it.
ever since my conscience left when i was eleven,
love and emotion left too.
ever since then,
the doctors called it schizophrenia.
but as i grew up,
hate,
desire,
and evil stayed.
they substituted the vacant spots.
they told me what to do.
they told me what to hurt
and what to say.
i was nothing but a surrogate
to a hulking monster that ruined my life….
i look down.
the water is still with its legs open.
waiting for me…
he sees the pain in my eyes.
he sees all the years leading up to this.
he knows.
i am a monster whether i like it or not.
nothing can or will stop me.
i turn around and let myself fall.
the last things i see is the life i could have had.
the last thing i think is about the things
i could have enjoyed.
faster, the wind in my ears increase.
the last thing i do is wish
i was normal.