Ambulance
Rain falls on the asphalt of the dark boulevard, lit by a single street lamp. A siren can be heard in the distance like the sound of a bereaved mother in the throws of childbirth. A long painful sound, cutting the silence of the night. A scalpel cutting the skin of peaceful silence.
The silence of the night was deceptive, the peacefulness of the rain a trick. For fate played me as the fool and my folly led to the state I am in.
Sometimes the quite things like hurtful words whispered in the ear by a lover echo the loudest. It was like that for me just minutes ago.
Falling, plummeting through the air. The air whistling through my ears, the same quite cool, silent air I lay immersed in right now was as loud as an explosion, the low decimals seeming to be almost unbearable.
As I hit the asphalt, the scrapping of my face, of my head, of my upper back, shouted out from the sick quite of the silent street. The blood flowing out seemed to be as loud as a waterfall instead of like the quite tinkling of a leaking facet. The bones that broke with a crack like a bullwhip seemed to echo in the pitch-black darkness for eternity.
I was bleeding out, I was broken and bruised. The sound of the night turned to a swell of sounds, fuelled by the internal dialogue of the victim of a catastrophe.
And then I was sucked into the silence of the night. Like an infant cuddled close to his mothers bosom. I was pulled close to the Silence, was pulled close to deaths icy grip that numbed me and kept me freezing yet I am entrapped in its red-hot embrace.
And there I lay for the creatures of the night to find, for life to leave me.
Then the siren came in my inner ear, The feeling of wet hot rain, rising my body from the ashes of a slow leaving smothering embrace.
Was I awake? No I was sinking in to the state nearing eternal sleep.
Tires squeal, red lights flash.
The sound of muffled voices, the silent night retreats into the dawning day.
The glory, oh God of the sun you made in the beginning of days. It will be the angel of my physical life, the tourniquet of my broken soul.
Had I seen light before? it could be no more glorious then this morning. This first light of a crushed mass of blood urging onto new life.
The paramedics stabilize the body I lost, as I stand outside viewing the scene with unphysical eyes.
Was I ever flesh to touch? Flesh and blood need flesh and blood. I need nothing but forgiveness from regrets that have paced the hallway of my being.
I have no feeling of the straps placed tight across my body. I lay here with the weight of past regrets.
I feel a burning in my throat. I could of I lived a life so short? So short of love, so short of compassion. Selfishness and greed are the wounds that have left my body cold to the touch of any human being. And with those wounds my death tolls upon the clock of time.
I do not feel the wide- bore tubing sliding down my throat, nor the flexible suction catheter. They try to breath life into me with a portable breathing apparatus. But my life was stolen by the darkness of the night and by my own foolishness that I now lament.
Medical procedures cannot wake the dead. My head is spinning with thoughts of living a life I never lived. My dislodged body lays helpless under the scrutiny of my peers. To save my life is to set right the inside of my spirit. I stand upon these broken promises, more broken then the bones that shattered as they collided upon the ground.
I am slide into the ambulance door. The slamming sound of crashing waves, my head is full of water, my ears are drowning, my muffled cry, falls on deaf ears.
As we begin to speed across the landscape of the land I have covered one hundred times while walking the earths crust; I turn over silently and face my ugly self. Face to face I see the ones I let down. These eyes, full of the oceans blue tide, spitting up sunlight, and glory.
Oh my Savior save this wretched soul, from dying of weary hands of building sand castles of self defeating pity. I have let you down, with promises I have not kept, with dreams you have given that I threw away.
I played a game of slight of hand. And lost my chance at life in the process.
The warm liquid flows through my veins. The medicine I need burns brighter then a thousand lights of a thousand suns.
Forgive me of what I have not done!
The world turns black before the jolting light goes through my body, stealing me from the greedy grips of death; and pulls me in with steady hands of a savior, into the land of the living dead.
I see florescent lights with my fleshly eyes and I am alive.
posted by Dead 2 MySelf at 5:22 PM
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