All Too Close

He stared at the weightless pills in his hand, each Prozac enveloping the surface of his skin in a deathly white.

            They called to him, the alluring voices seemingly to reverberate out of the glass of dirty tap water in his other, trembling hand.

            This is the choice he made, the decision that he’s become.

            Do it. Let it go. Let it all die.

            The voices boomed, penetrating every corner of his mind.

            That’s when the memories ensued, a landslide of pain.

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            “You’ll never change!” said the voice of his lover. “I can’t take it anymore; your emotions, your breakdowns, the holes in your apologies!”

            It was daylight. The air was all too crisp, the clouds all too clear.

            He stood there, motionless, submitting to his lover’s wrath.

            “Just come in, please, and let’s talk about thi---“ he started in response.

            “No! Absolutely not! Something has to give at this point, so I’m walking away. For good.”

            His lover made way off of his front steps in a blind rage, the moment of the situation swallowing him whole, making his way to his car across the street.

            He watched him walk away, the end of their love all too close, all too familiar.

            “Please, don’t go!” he said, running towards his lover, a torrent of tears flooding his face.

            His lover stopped abruptly, turned towards his boyfriend, and unleashed his venomous stare.

            “I’m serious! Just give it up!” his lover was now crying as well. “It’s better this way, it’s just better...” His lover resumed walking once more, but this time, walking backwards, continuing to stare. “Don’t follow me.”

            “Just give me a chance! Don’t do this!” he said, helplessly.

            The asphalt was all too close. The car now speeding down the street, all too near.

            His lover’s feet started to kiss the road. He was still staring, pin-point precise into his boyfriend’s eyes.

            “I said, just give it u---“ a sudden screeching of breaks, a dull thud, a splatter of red.

            ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            He recoiled from the thought, the recollection taking his breath away.

            The pills and glass were still in his hands.

            Do it…erase it all.

            His pulse boiled, rising to a definitive heat.

            It was time.

            He placed each bitter pill, one-by-one, into his mouth.

            Yes…

            He slowly raised the glass to his lips.

            The water crept in.

            He took one last look into the mirror that was in front of him.

            He tilted his head back, ready to swallow…

            His eyes caught the wallpaper next to the mirror.

            His gazed focused on a faint writing written in black.

            “I’ll always love you…” it read.

            He burst into tears, spitting the death cocktail out of his mouth.

            He put his back against the wall, allowing himself to sink to the cold, tiled floor.

            From his pocket, he pulled out a small photograph.

            It was of his lover, smiling at him from eternity.

            Death was all too close, but the will to live, was even closer.

    

            2013 Vincent Cuccolo

Reviews

[Alex Ryder]

I feel like I've been punched in the gut, and that is true poetry. Something that makes you feel. This may not technically be poetry, but it is by my definition. Excellent job.

[Vincent Cuccolo]

I see it as poetry as well, so it's funny you should mention that! :) Thanks again!

[Alex Ryder]

No problem. :)