The curse of Lady McBeth

[plural]

There are events in our lives which forever alter us

sometimes it is in our actions
othertimes it is what we observe
but regardless
we are never the same again

I have had too many of these

too many faces haunt my dreams
too many scars upon my soul
entirely too much blood stains these miserable hands

my dreams are a minefield
the distance from a spirit crushing nightmare
never further than a single straying thought

I took my first life at seventeen
I remember looking down at his body
lying on the cold concrete
that halloween night

blood on my hands
blood at my feet
the smell of his vacated bowels
staining my nostrils

in truth I cared nothing for the man, boy, whatever
lying there in a crumpled battered heap

I had no choice in what happened
my hand was the executioner
but the decision was his

and he was a stranger, an unknown
I had never seen him before and would never again
I knew not even his name and never cared to learn it

I did not know then, of course
that his face would remain with me
frozen in death and smeared with blood

the policy inquiry was perfunctory
there was barely a mention in the papers
and being a minor, my name was omitted

my family paid for his funeral
my mother attended incognito

and like that
the whole bloody affair
washed neatly from history

but those brief moments
left me forever altered

everyone tried to console me
but I just smiled pathetically
playing the part I knew was expected

for no one would understand
what really bothered me
what I truly struggled with

death was no stranger to me
I had buried friends
tenderly washed their blood from my hands
stood at their graves face blank without comprehension

no, this was different
what affected me most was how little it affected me
and it was that I struggled to comprehend.

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/_sacchi/]

You are a good man. Never forget that.

[nandan.livejournal.com]

That's a lot to live with. I'm not sure why you feel you ought to have felt more. I would imagine that it would be more significant for you and possibly relieve whatever vestige of guilt or unease you feel to try to understand/identify with whatever that man was feeling in life, rather than obsess on the fact that he chose to end it on you (stepped in front of your car, I'm guessing?).