Shouts in Shadows

Shouts In Shadows

Tiny Footsteps creeping forward.
Pitter patter across the floor like rain drops that drip into your head through the great opening in your mind. They slide down your skull. Not on the outside but the inside, just above your soul, you hear wind blown whispers, “come home, come home,
Let me go, let me go, don’t go, I don’t know know, I don’t know!”

Turmoil and confusion leave you in that disillusion someday, today, maybe, never mind, and then there's time. Time to live, to die and very little left to ask why? Squandered, squandered in words that are lies which tie and bind till you run away never to be found; hiding inside the heart that beats and pulsates life into all of the beautiful colors that create your rainbow. Which you capture in  words that illuminate the idea or notion that freedom is just beyond everyone's reach, and yet you can taste it as you stretch out your hand to grasp the last imaginary friend that you could muster in your mind. Trying to comprehend all this in the corner of your room, you scream into the darkness and shout at shadows just hiding behind skeletons.
They come alive, awakened again, they begin to reveal light. It is true and white like Gods love, a bride’s dress or the snow flakes which appear to spin end over end and back again, as they meander and float past your eyes and land on your skin. There they melt and drip onto the floor of a place you remembered in a dream that you had when you where in love, ahh love, welcome back, I missed you, I missed you but who, who are you? I never knew, like night is to day I asked you not to leave but yet you couldn’t stay more than a minute in time, as quick as the lightning that precedes the rain and flows through my veins like morphine. Oh shit, the meter has expired and I must run with change in hand, hoping for an hour or two more. Maybe I can settle the score then die, like the sun does everyday on the horizon as it finds its way to tomorrow.