Bitter Path

I walk the bitter path,

I walk the bitter mile. 

I drink the bitter drink,

I choke down the bile.

Behind me it follows, 

Heaving a bitter laugh.

Behind me, it keeps pace—

Assuming the form of dark shadow ink.

It whispers in my ear, 

Always leaving me hollow.

It clings,

Its arms locked around my neck, 

As I walk the bitter path.

I walk the bitter mile,

I climb the cruel wall. 

I track every trail and stream,

Never knowing where my clumsy feet will fall. 

I hold in my hands a cup

As I walk the length of the Nile—

The bitter drink, your favorite, a russet pool—

Honey whiskey to sweeten your bitter dreams.

The Thing fills my lungs full,

And I, a less glamorous Ophelia,

Traverse the broken isle

Eyes turned to the sun-less sky

As I walk the bitter mile.

I climb the cruel wall,

Biting back a bitter cry.

My hands are torn to shreds,

The jagged rock begging me not to speak my unspoken goodbye.

Around my neck, It hangs like a weight,

A monster of a haul.

I hope I'll see you there, 

That I won't be alone on that ledge. 

The wind whips my hair, 

But all I see is blue and green and brown earth.

I have never felt so small—

With infinity at my fingertips

As I climb the bitter wall.

I bite back a bitter cry

Knowing you'll never come back. 

Your feet have walked a great distance—

You've ventured hopefully from the pack.

I'm sure you've felt the same as I,

I'm sure that you've cried that bitter cry.

You've walked the same bitter mile, 

But you're the one whose reached nonexistence.

The tears burn like whiskey, Brother,

And my stomach clenches each time I close my eyes

Because I can always see your face, as if you never died. 

The Thing tells me it's my fault

As I bite back a bitter cry. 

I know you'll never come back—

You've crossed the bridge.

The cup still waits for you

If you decide to join me on the ridge.

I'll be here when you're ready, 

Even though I'll be dry and cracked. 

In this life and next, 

I'll see it through. 

Breathless, broken, bound—

I'll always continue to walk. 

Even with bloodied feet, blooded hands, 

The chokehold of grief around my throat like a necklace,

All I can do is walk my bitter path.