Red fills my vision.
Needles poke and prod at my heart.
Cold fury fills my body.

I am staring
into the eyes
of the unknown
and the forgotten.

I am sucked a way
into a place 
of hate and pain.

As I fight my way through hell,
I can only think of that one moment.
The red in vision returns
and the cold fury starts to burn.

The chains bound around my wrist and ankles
are not the thing that hurts.
It's the solitude that runs around me
trapping me.

Each day seems worse,
watching my fears conquer 
over and over.

I debate,
with myself
whether it's the presence,
or the absence 
that hurts the worst.