Eminence Grise

Eminence Grise


Images, sounds, and smells ...
  a xeric rhapsody that orchestrates my
  thoughts and feelings since my return.

The dry desert landscape, once so hauntingly beautiful,
now has morphed into hell and won't release me ...
  won't release those that I left behind
    won't release the living or the dead.

Like windswept sand abrading my mind,
the pain and the memories have worn
away reality, leaving me in a prison
of my own making.
  NO!  I didn't make it ... I just reside in its torture.

I chuckle at the irony: the razor blade looks like a dog tag,
complete with my name and, soon, blood type.
Funny, I had forgotten what it felt like to laugh.

The silver blade sparkles and then slowly writes
freedom across my arm ...
  The warm garnet liquid runs down my arm,
    pooling in my hands.

I feel the pain trickle from me, the images darkening,
the sounds fading, the faint ferrous smell of release
overwhelming the pungent past ...

The darkness has gotten so cold ...
  like the desert at night.

I smile in welcoming remembrance.

An entry in the July round, "Invalid Item" 
Prompt: Open - This is based on an article I read about the high rate of suicide among returning veterans... and on my own experiences a generation ago.
Line Limit: None
Line Count: 25

eminence grise - a person who wields power or exerts influence behind the scenes
xeric - of, pertaining to, or adapted to a dry environment.