Visitation
    I stood there, not so different from any other fully evolved human male, head hanging low.  You surely wouldn't think anything of me while you passed.  So busy with your errands, your life, your problems.  I'm sure you wouldn't notice.  The roses lay dead upon the moist ground, I stared at them, oblivious to the rain, emotionless.  I put them there a week ago, I wanted you to know I still care, and I know you understand in your place.  Will I ever come to terms, will I ever move on?  Only time will tell I guess, but today I just want to look at you, how I remember you best.

    My feet, my legs, useless.  I'm not here where I stand, where you see me as passersby.  I fall to my knees as it all overtakes me, just as it's done before.  I see your smile in this place, so happy, together with me, with my wretchedness.  My body is so useless, it means nothing to me in this state.  This must look horribly degrading, on all fours, yelling, just fucking nonsense like all the things I've always said before.  It doesn't stop, the rain, despite my crawling in the mud, grasping at the dead roses I left.  They were so alive, vibrant, just last week when I left them, although no less peacefully than I will this week.  I must enjoy this.  My chest wants to burst, I say I hate this, but something in me wants to continue the pain, because here I am, just as I will be in seven days.  I like to wallow in the mud that blankets your rotting corpse.  It makes me happy deep down, or rather, it makes something in me happy.



    

Comments:
 
penname   penname wrote
on 9/30/2008 4:19:33 PM
remarkable. wow. the title is great...not giving away too much. but the writing is packed full of... shock, disturbing, emotional, images and concepts.

Galant_Revear
Short Story
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writing Galant_Revear
Simplicity
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