My id won't let it go.

According to Sigmund Freud, the human mind has two natural instincts: Eros, linked to sexual impulse and the desire for life; and Sadism, the impulse to destroy and seek death. Part of his research went into describing how these two instincts feed and react with each other. Ultimately, it seems as though Eros leads to Sadism in the sense that once the former is satisfied the latter has the ability to step forward. Honestly, I couldn't agree more.

The following piece is an amalgamation of my experiences with such an instance.

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"Fate Ideal"


I.


Across the street
She cries harshly.
She can't retreat;
Her heart agrees.


I'm on the other side,
My hands reach to her.
Her knife wants suicide,
But I'm helpless now.


Cars pass between,
Ignorant to our struggle.
Only nineteen,
Yet the world'll kill her soon.


Screams pierce time;
The knife carves her flesh.
Car sounds climb
To silence her pain.


"Don't do it!"
I yell to her.
Cars don't quit;
They block all sound.


"I love you so much Chris!"
She screams to my ears only.
"But I'd killed it with a kiss...
I can't stand who I am!


"I can't handle who you are!
I'm so sorry..."
Alex had taken her love far...
I'd taken her...


How could Chris compare?
"It doesn't matter!"
My sound seems rare;
The knife dug deeper.


Cars sped between us,
Content with silent ignorance.
He came between us;
Still, I forgave her ignorance.


II.


Fiction fades out;
The scene screams red.
Walls contain doubt;
Doors separate.


Strength fills my entirety
As I break through the door.
Shock stains my sad body
As the water rises more.


Scarlet, from her final exit,
Stained tub and floor alike.
I guess my love wouldn't've fit,
But my heart leaps away.


So pale, too pure,
To leave me like this.
Yet, I'm still here
Viewing death's beauty.


"Why not me?!"
I suddenly upstart.
"Such cruelty..."
How rapidly the tears come...


I couldn't save her;
Love forced her hand.
I only torture;
I loved her dead.


Down on my knee,
I begin to pray.
"God! What's the fee?!
I'll do anything!"


No deity appears;
No spirit consoles.
Nothing saves my hated tears;
No one can help this.


Loneliness can't be saved,
Even as I hold her in my arms.
This feeling isn't tamed;
Knives hold the only absolution.


III.


Cars begin to rush by,
But no one calls to me.
How hard I always try,
But only death comforts.

I'll be your Freudian slip, if you'll be my schizophrenic delusion.

~Alex



~Edited by Sharon, Elizabeth