It’s Done

the stillness of the night comes

but the rage inside continues to hum
like a subway train running along crooked metal tracks
at 100 miles per hour.

the body wants to rest
but its soul is keeping it alive.

the wheels unceasingly run along the tracks,
never stopping for a breath’s time.

the body struggles to hurdle the cries of the soul.
the body aches. the body cries. the body responds.

it looks for a way to cork and silence the whines of the hurting soul.

the body searches and it sees.
and it longs to feel a sudden pain that will release all pain;
So the body lets the soul feel that sharpness:
the taste of metal against skin.
the taste of blood against metal.

the speeding train of pain starts and ends
but the impact follows through
in a resounding screech of metal against skin,
a defeaning cry of wheels scratching against a stronger surface.

the body wins as it slowly yields and falls.

the soul loses as it cries.

the soul cries.

and the stillness of the night
deafens and mutes the aches from deep inside
as blood flows
and the sharpness seizes the night.

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