Faces fill the ShadowsMature

I begin to rummage through closets and chests left by passing owners long since vacated. I feel alone. No voices, no breeze, no man to see his life scattered around my memories. Again the lonely howl of the alleys residents in heat, I begin to feel the room well with emotion and looking to the floor the same sheets which once filled the green room with its missing yellow sun appear and brighten its compact shape. Stepping over these memories the words still unrecognizable I remember him in his happy inner moments crying one moment and laughing the next; longing to hear the thoughts which flooded these crisp yellow linen sheets, bending down for the first time I feel the memories in my hands to read the scratches I want nothing more than to decipher the tormented mind. 

 

“Here I am in all my glory a man with no longing or desire  trapped in a world filled with reasoning and hatred I am but a lonely heathen of this birthed right to breath and they tell me I could talk they talk too loud I am alone but not as by oneself they are alone with me I am hearing the heathen not myself and they all know I was not here by choice but by the long awaited departure gone wrong I can hear the men conspire to my demise and laugh they say this laughter is the sign to let go and I am aware of nothing but its call naked to the truth bare to its reason he is my demise and my safety but where has he gone in my ears his voice no longer rings but my own and the voices of the men who hid in corner but now from blackened edges to flow through my veins they the Shepard’s and I their sheep.”

 

The words themselves appear and dissolve at will, no punctuation only the present in focus as if written in the moment to come forth but never to be read. I think back and nothing could make sense I have long forgotten my own self-righteous callings and the chapters of my memories have by now begun to collapse, our meeting and the nights we shared with love and intrigue has no meaning if I do not understand where he left, and why the man I would call Mr. Black has invaded those memories.

 

The End

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