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ONCE I WAS HUMAN written by Multi-Facets 0xxxx)>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>j>
I can't bear to look in mirrors any more.
That's why they're lying in shards on the floors, the sinks, the shelves, in my hair, and my hands.
I clench my fists in grief and hate, driving the shards into my palms. It hurts, but I don't bleed. With silent sobs and blurred vision, I work the pieces free and leave them where they fall.
I had everything. I had the lead in a band, I had a great singing voice, I had looks, and a girlfriend, Gayle, who I loved more than life. I had friends who are the best people I know. I had a family. I had a fun life, with parties that had plenty of beer, ciggies and any drug of choice. I had motorcycle championships out the wazoo. I had countless victories from staged street-fights my gang would sponsor. I had a nice flat, which was an eighteenth birthday gift.
I had humanity.
No more. Now, when I see myself, I stare in horror at the cracks in my flesh, the pulsing, burning lights that twist from nose to sternum.... and I scream. Not out loud, of course. I can't scream out loud, because I can't breathe. I'm a hollow monster, when once I was human.
I can clearly recall how I got this way: I was walking Gayle home after a wild party. We were both drunk and I think stoned. We got into a fight -can't remember what it was about- and I got so mad, my head hurt and my chest hurt. That happened to me a lot, but this time, I couldn't ignore it.... and next thing I know, I'm waking up, covered in blood and debris.
It was a nightmare. People everywhere were burnt or otherwise injured, and Gayle had it the worst. Her legs had third-degree burns, and she was sobbing hysterically about not being able to move them. We were all rushed to the nearest hospital, and I was examined. The doctors had never seen anything like me. They had to consult an American doctor about what to do with me. But before anyone could try to help me, I slit my wrists, hoping to escape the.... the thing I had become. No blood, of course.
I was placed in psychiatric care with someone who specialized in trauma, and he told me about this place in the USA that helped people.... No, let me rephrase that: A place that tried to help freaks like me. I really couldn't see another choice. I mean, I couldn't stay. I didn't want my mates or my family to see what happened to me. But that also meant I'd have to run away, because without parental consent, I couldn't go.
I decided to leave anyway. I considered saying goodbye to Gayle, but after what I'd done to her, I didn't think she'd want to see me, and that meant.... that meant I'd never see her again.
I left, driving my motorcycle to Heathrow Airport. I didn't wear a helmet. Didn't really matter if I lived or died in a crash. I took nothing but clothing, CDs, my passport, money and memories. I left behind everything else, including my hope.... my humanity.
I still miss it.
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I'm fading outta sight,
My wheels are the only sound
Running at the speed of light,
An' I can't slow down now.
Out on an open road,
Racing to beat the night,
No matter where I'm goin',
I guess I'll get there all right...
I can't hold on,
And I can't return.
It's time to let go,
An' start to live and learn.
I took a one-way flight,
Too high to see the ground.
Now I know how long it takes
A heart to come down...
I can't hold on,
And I can't return.
Rivers will run,
And bridges will burn.
I can't say just how,
But there's no lookin' back now....
"No Lookin' Back" lyrical pieces property of Kenny Loggins, copyright 1983.
