Somewhere Between Life and Death


The smell of tobacco and stale air hangs in the room.
And my hand hovers above yet another open bottle of whiskey.
I've downed so many over the oourse of days.
Always to unconciousness, but now I have to choose.

Life and death.

Life is such a hard place because I am alone.
No one to share my life with.
No one to say "I love you" to.
No one to care if I DO live or die.
No one to go to the funeral.
No one to cry at the grave.
No one to miss me.
As if I was never born.
Worse, to be alone and not made a difference.
A never was.

But death?

Death?

It appeals. The stillness.
The silence.
Pain gone, memory gone, life gone.
Oblivion would take away even the fear and shame.
Buried forever beyond those who hurt me.
Beyond their reach.
Past the point of caring.

Such a sad ending, though, alone in a cheap room.
Rented by the hour.
Knowing I'd be found only because they'd throw me out.
The taste of booze the last great memory.
A small breeze entered the room
Pushes past the heavy smell of despair.
Brings to mind better days.
There were some, once.
Feeling the pride of doing a job well.
Affecting minds that were hungry for what I could give them.
Brings a smile to my face.
And tears to my eyes.
Staring at the bottle
Sitting in a hotel room somewhere
On the corner of life and death.
One last pull, empty the whole damn thing and
I'd wake up in Heaven or Hell
I didn't care about that this morning.
But now I care.
And that's enough for me to put the damn thing down.
Walking out the door
Past the corner of Death's street
And back on the road to life.


Peace,

Scot

_________________________
There are reasons I'm taking medication. They're called "other people." - Me, displaying my anti-social tendancies

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