Rest (Eschaton) Hotel Books

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”