Confined

June 7, 2011
By pernidole BRONZE, Gilbert, Arizona
pernidole BRONZE, Gilbert, Arizona
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"These violent delights have violent ends / and in their triumph die, like fire and powder" Friar Lawrence, Romeo and Juliet


My name. I do not remember it. When I look down at my hands, all I see are rough, calloused weapons.
I am a man. A man of great power. A man who once lived. My home is dirty and breaking- a demon’s sanctuary. My demon’s sanctuary. It is the only place I know of. I am confined to the insides of it’s boundaries.
Everyday, my mind runs through the list.
My mother.
My brother.
My father.
My tears.
My numerous partners.
And my soul.
Then sometimes, I think of adding more. But then I look down at my hands. I decide against it. After that my demons look at me, thirsty. They do not care for hands. They do not know of all my hands have been through. These demons, all they want is something to quench their constant thirst. And I rethink about adding more.
And decide against it. Because I am a man with power. A man who once lived, confined to my home filled with demons and my list. I do not like it, but I think it’s going to end. I will live again, someday.
All the time I have chances to lengthen my list. There is a little window in my home with a ledge. Every hour, a small boy who’s name I forget places a small plate stacked with measly bits of bread and sour butter carefully on the narrow ledge. He takes his time, gazing at my cracked, sullen face with empty eyes, as if he knows what I am thinking. I am thinking about my hands.
They have seen oh so many things. I feel sorry for my hands. I do not regret anything, but stripping them of their innocence. Of their softness that they - I - was born with. I replaced them with bitter rage- no, not bitter rage.
I do not know what they are now. I know they are not grateful, my trembling, rough hands.
And when the boy goes off with his empty face, the demons turn on me. They do not say anything at all. They stare at me with cold, heartless, crimson red eyes, scorning me and pushing me farther from life. Their gazes bore into me, as if whispering obscenities into my ears. Why? the demons seem to ask.
I do not know the answer. Their question pours through my every vein, and again my mind runs through the list I have come to know so well.


The author's comments:
I wrote this late at night, when a sudden inspiration hit. I don't know exactly why I wrote it, because it's in no way connected to my life, but I did.

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This article has 1 comment.


on Jul. 7 2011 at 8:50 pm
ErisRose DIAMOND, Ashburn, Virginia
50 articles 1 photo 81 comments

Favorite Quote:
Omnia vincit amor et nos cedamus amori- Love conquers all let us yield to love
Sweat Dries, Blood Clots, Bones Heal, Suck it up and dance!
If they give you ruled paper, write the other way

I loved this! it was so good, loved the imagery. check out my work please! keep writing:)


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