Point of View
I awaken.
I awake to find myself in a sea of light and color.
All the gentle hues of my childhood decorate the chamber of lost innocence.
Pulling against elaborate buckles and chains, I listen for the footsteps.
Checking all the fasteners and restraints, it’s time.
The glint of stainless steel momentarily blinds me to the evil machinations about to
proceed.
What a beautiful specimen of anxiety and fear.
I’m bleeding!
The crimson stream flows pure over it’s container with the colors of days gone.
Tears rolling down my face. My muffled screams falling upon deaf ears as the
unbearable pain courses like flaming daggers on tender flesh.
The exquisite pain quickens my pulse and dulls my senses. I will never escape this
blessed narcotic.
These damn colors are driving me mad. The pain is excruciating. I can’t go on.
The tempo is building to a final crescendo of climax. I relish this fever of passion and
turmoil as the fluids run as free and swiftly as my own. We are becoming one. I feel the
moment of youth. I feel the virtue of innocence.
Slipping away into the inviting arms of darkness, I feel nothing now. I see only a distant
impression, like a sunspot, shrinking away.
My fountain of immortality has run dry once again, leaving only this empty vessel and
my treasured dreams to be played over tomorrow. Closing my eyes and resting on the
remains of my odyssey I enjoy the fleeting moment that passed on and dwell upon my
next journey with a new partner.
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