When Will It Be Enough…

by Neal Freeland

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I wonder if I should still be in hell
Should I still be in prison
Have I suffered enough
And when will it be enough
Should I have died in hell
Would that have been enough
Payment, retribution, restoration…
Would that balance the scales?
I dreamed of hell last night, like the night before and before that too
I dreamed of being in prison, of being still there right now
I dreamed of this life I’m living now
My life was a dream, I’m in prison dreaming of being here now
I’m still in hell
I wonder what more I can do
What is it that will make the screaming in my head stop?
What is it that will make the wailing in my soul be silent?
What is it that will make the screeching in my heart be quiet?
What do I still have to do to make this life anything esle but AGONY!!!
What??
What?
What…
I screamed a month ago in the sweatlodge and I held back
Held it all back
Because its too much to hear, too much to bare, too much to feel, too much to see
I dream of screaming in the night, in the day
And I am screaming you just don’t see it
You just don’t hear it
Sitting next to you, laughing with you, talking to you, comforting you,
Learning like you do, praying like you do, working like you do
You don’t see it because I keep it to myself
I don’t show it
I don’t deserve your sympathy, your empathy
Because I murdered a man
And he doesn’t get to go home
To see his children, his wife, his mother, his father
Because of me…
Me
I wander through life and I see all the pain I’ve caused, left behind me
Even now, I see it, even now…
Why would she forgive me I wonder
I killed her son, why would she do that to me
What the fuck did I do to deserve such a kindness
The fuck am I doing now to honor him and his life I stole
What can I ever do
When will it be enough
I dream of hell
I’m neck deep in it
I wonder if I’m allowed to feel this sorrow
To feel this way for myself
To even talk about it
Write about it
I held back in the sweatlodge
In my artwork, in my poetry, even now I hold back
Because
It hurts to hear your words of comfort
To be your freind
To be loved, to be cared for, to be here at all
When will it be enough I wonder
Don’t you fucking dare read this and then me its going be ok
Or that you’re sorry,
That you believe in me,
That I’m a good man
Don’t you fucking to that to me
Eviscerate me like that
…
…
…
I dream of hell and I wonder if I spent the rest of my life there would that be enough
I don’t want to move, but I have to, I have to draw
I don’t want to leave my room, but I have to
I have to keep going
I have to hope that someday it will be enough
I have to
Even though I don’t believe it that
I have to breathe
I have to keep breathing
Just breathe
Breathe
Breathe