I listen to the yells and the empty souls of those who wander
I hear the tip toes of strangers
I should be more like them
clever, with their dark shadows and scorching screams
unknown stories and forgotten identities of those who cease to exist
I crawl into my own insecurities
and plunge the fire of despair
“it's like a dream”
they whisper to me
the moonlight eats at my being as I try to decipher the rhythm
the pattern of the living
the darkness howling at me
pulling me closer, whispering tales of remorse
veering consciousness left or right
embedding words into my skull that I can forever read