Tuesday, November 05, 2013

It must be the time of year.

The wind.

The early twilight.

I see three years ago peeping at me from corners and turn on more lights to drive the shadows from my space.

I read my old Constantine comics, reveling in glorious pointlessness until something looms up and smacks me back to earth.

I am robbed of pleasure while I move to keep one step ahead of my ghosts.

That is my primary task these days, staying one step ahead of the memories waiting to pull me back to them.

I want to ask my therapist "When will I stop being haunted?" but I am sure she would think me crazier then we both know I am.

I consider building a bonfire and throwing scraps of reminiscence into the flames.  I will chant secret words and rebuild walls of protection.

The winter will be long and I have no extra anima to spare.

0 Baleful Regards:

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