I've been connecting dots

There is no place like home, they say. Adding that to the old cliché "home is where your heart is". Sure thing. And then, there is this guy, with a heart shred to piece. Where is his home? Many battles were fought and the blood bath was the only known thing to him. The only road he knew, was a lonely road full of corpses. Did he fight any of them? No, but they tried to fight him. One day, around those dark corners, he found a body laying down, trying to survive. You see when the needle skips the vinyl because it's scratched? That was the breathing of that body. Already skipping beats.

"Please, help me! I can't die" - screamed the body with agony in its voice.
"Why should I help you? Why should I waste my time with you, when you just want an excuse to keep breathing and keep on taking foolish decisions?" - he replied.

One thing he knew; if he helped that body, he would be used until he became a body like all those around him. All those bodies tried to extract the best out of him, nearly killed him, but he just kept moving on. He couldn't stop, no matter what. He was the warning signs, he was the deepest hugs, he was the precious advices, he was everything and nothing all at once. Everything to them, nothing to him. That was his faith.

"I promise, I won't be like the others. I just don't want to die! Please, I'm begging you" - said the body.
"That's the problem. That's the fucking problem! You make all those promises, like they did, just because you don't want to die. I'm sure you want to go to heaven, but you have to die for it. At least, if you believe in heaven. I won't help you. Look at me!" - he screamed to the body - "I've been fighting for all of you, I've been wandering through my own blood so all of you could survive, but what all of you did was selling lies. My words were hitting deaf ears. I lost everything, I became nothing, I became senseless. I'm empty. EMPTY! Do you know what if feels like? Oh, but you're on your deathbed, sure you know all those things just for the sake of being saved. I'm not sorry for leaving you there to die. Was your choice against my advice."

Another body. He knew he could've make something to save that body, but he choose not to. Instead, he choose to obliterate that body with words. May that body can now rest. As for him, he knew, even without any strenght, he needs to keep walking. And that's exactly what I did. Keep walking.

I've been connecting dots. The dots of my body with a razor. What a visual poetry this is!

Impossible

"Is it impossible?" - he thought. The world had turn against him. There was nothing for him to keep moving on with the certainty something will ever be in his favor. He had seen everything fall apart, like a cheap trick someone gave to him so many years ago, but while he was aging, the better the trick would unfold. Holding a piece of papper he could do nothing but write what was consuming is mind.

"Is it impossible, for real?" - he thought. Nothing made sense appart all the things he experienced. He never did any wrong and that was his mistake. He did everything to please everyone but him. All that kind he would hold for this long, came with a price. A price he couldn't fully understand until the day he decided to pour those words into that piece of papper. With red eyes and a troubled mind. He was sick. He wasn't able to do anything but watch everything fall down. That magic trick, a cheap one, gave him the best to put him at his worst.

"My head hurts. Joining forces with my back pain can't be a good sign. I just felt the urge to expose it once again. Not sure if it's the lack of sleep or these messed up habbits I've gained in the last few days. Nothing seems right. Nothing seems in place. I shouldn't be writing all of this, because it will wake me up when all I want is to sleep. But here I am, writing about it. Maybe it's just me overthinking about it all and when I wake up, in case I fall asleep, I will read this and think that I was being too much overdramatic about it. I'm fully aware of everything around me and I don't like it. I'm an idiot, for sure. I don't even know what day is today. I feel like I've been putting myself in a lot of weird places hoping for someone to try to save me, even not knowing if t's possible. That's just my daily struggle. Again, another mistake. For a split of second I went blind, but kept writing. Why am I this hard to me? I'm not. I'm trying to fix it all and I just can't. I'm not stuck in the past anymore, I just can't move on. All of this is like a loop in this piece of papper and I only write when things are really bad. If only things would be ok. If only that girl could reach me and say that she loves me. I could tell her I am broken but I love her back. I can't even tell myself everything's ok, why should I bring her down too? Why should I bring everything and everyone around, dow with me? It's unfair and I can't be saved. In all of this, I was the one who's kept." - he typed.

"Is it really impossible for me to get better, be better, feel better...be happy?" - he thought with some tears falling from his eyes.

"It shouldn't be, my friend. But it is" - I replied.