Hotel Books
Rest (Eschaton)
2 a.m. stopping to fill up the tank on the way back from a late night show
As I exited my car, I noticed something
Something familiar, but I couldn't quite place it
For I had not been acquainted with it for quite some time
After a few deep breaths, the frost kissing my face as I exhale
I remembered her name, Silence
A friend I had not visited in quite some time
She had this weird way of reminding me how alone I was
Maybe it was the fact that she gave my mind more freedom
To imagine a voice, speaking to me
But it had been so long, I had forgot what that voice sounded like
The voice that promises me everything is gonna be alright
Silence allowed my mind to think
And for some reason, the good times were a quick montage that came and went
And then those staining memories came
Those days when I had dreamed of standing on that stool
Rope around my neck, ready to give Hell a chance
I realized I then had no fear of pain
Only fear of not feeling pain again
Because without this pain, who would I be?
The fear of standing on the stool was knowing there were two options
I could cut the rope and walk away, or kick the stool and fade away. Either way, nothing was ever gonna be the same
Perceptions would completely change and life would not be the same
That I knew before “the rope days”
Now after months of therapy
And encouraging words from friends and family
There was a conclusion that life tried to show me
When I stepped on that stool, I was a boy
But when I stepped back off, I was a man
But the truth was, when I stepped on that stool, I was a boy
But I never did find the strength to step off again
Life is still a sequence of last minute decisions
Deciding whether or not to go for it
Because the blood in the veins of my legs was beginning to slow down
My knees locked, and mind focused on nothing more
Than the sweat forming around my neck
That itch, that sting from the rope
Reminded me of that crown of thorns
The one I was supposed to wear
As rocks and whips tore my flesh and tore me to shreds
I remembered those nails that were supposed to be driven into my hands
But I can feel the flesh there and there are no scars
No pain, just my hands intact
That stool was nothing more than the gas station driveway
A seat on the recliner in the living room
Driving down a long freeway
Or waiting for the shower to go warm in the bathroom
These moments are all the same
Times in life that I deserved so much more pain
But it was taken away, oh God, it was taken away
And as the world tries to throw so much stress my way
Heaven is where I lay, and I finally found that rest