Dreamer oh dreamer, you –
who are paralyzed in terror by the conjurings of your mind –
whose mind’s eye sees the blood yet to be spilled –
the cries yet to be heard –
the suffering yet to be felt –
Embrace the whole that is you –
Blinding light of the Angel –
The fire and fury of the Beast –
They are you, you are them
You are just a fleeting existence,
A daemon who stirred the ocean of unlife,
Cursed to see the truths beyond the veil,
Cursed to sample the suffering yet to come,
Dwelling in the cracks between shadows,
A soulless tool, witness it,
witness it all,
For you can bear this burden,
So others won’t have to,
Photo by Heorhii Heorhiichuk from Pexels
‘Tap, tap, tap…’ droplets of water fall freely in the half-filled tub steaming with hot water. Helen sits in the next room on the couch they used to share staring on the floor upon which he took his first steps. Little Adrian… her son and life, now gone. Memories come unbidden to her mind of their lovely laughter. Adrian’s and Victor’s. Their home was once filled with warmth of family and pure joy of life itself. Now, its icy touch creeps upon her pale skin, freezing the blood in her veins, her heart waning in the colorless days which go by without notice. Only the color of despair and shades of emptiness are her entire world. Victor was gone now, taking their son with them – “because of your erratic behavior, I won’t let your destroy our son,” – it said in the letter which now burns in the fireplace.
Did he ever really know the struggle of being different? Did he ever truly know how it was to be afraid of one’s own mind? Did he ever truly believe she would put her light and soul in the form that lovely bundle of hands and feet and toes in danger? How could he even imagine such a heartless act?
Heartless, that is what she was now. The pain of losing them both overwhelmed her and it has become too much to bear. The undeniable truth of that complete and silent loneliness bores inside her skull, and she can almost hear the accusations and the mockery.