They are the special ones who greet me. I’m the lost soul who finds them. Two peaceful dusks with peaceful hearts and quiet wings like me. Two that are eternally with me but never present. Two fallen sunrises begging for the night. Inside my chest I feel them there, but others think I’m crazy and can’t find them.
The silence is eternal. I scream but somehow it stays quiet. I hurt and bleed when they’re present but it doesn’t feel bad, in the everlasting quiet I learn to be content and tune out all the rest. This keeps me hanging on.
If day went from sunset to twilight I wouldn’t even begin to understand and would ponder, search and call endlessly for nothing. Live, live, live dusks demand when I collapse. They warm.
When the world becomes too dark and cold to walk through, when I fall and just lay because rising hurts, I roll over and open my eyes. If others go and all I hear are my pathetic squeaks. Two who wrap around forever. Two that continually change but don’t become something else. Two who will forever stay gone but keep me.