Tragic Poetry

Lonely

I walk a lonely road
Lined with empty houses
And bare trees
That quiver in the wind.

Breath floats from my lips
Like calm, cold smoke
As my winter boots
Crunch over icy snow.

Ah. There it is again.
The whispering, the snickering,
The familiar faces
Hiding behind every corner.

Ice crashes at my feet.
I cast a threatening glare at the attackers
And tell them they only make me stronger,
So they call me arrogant.

I keep walking.
I tug my scarf tighter around my neck
As the voices grow louder
And aggressively mock me.

Nobody is there to walk beside me,
To comfort me in the midst
Of this tribulation.
Darkness consumes me.

But I am almost home.
Only a little longer.
I smile at those familiar faces,
And they hate me for it.

They run at me.
No, no, I won't be able to make it home now.
They strip me of my warmth,
Tear apart my coat and rip my gloves in half.

And I smile at them.
They call me names,
They twist my intentions
And shove unspoken words down my throat.

I remind them of our former mutual love
And they laugh wildly
As they viciously shove me to the ground
And kick my head with the heel of their boots.

I lay there silently
In the middle of the unplowed road
As their bitter cold gaze chills me
Even more than the snow seeping into my skin.

All these familiar faces,
And not one of them, no, not one,
Will stand by me, will love me, will warm me.
Oh, what did I expect?

I close my eyes.
It's better to die at the feet of those I know
Than to live a lonesome, painful life.
So I wait for the cold to claim me.