what I do..what I..

They come into my house and take my thoughts away. They snatch them from my head and run like little puppies, petrified of the light. I do nothing but watch them, rocking my chair slowly and whispering little nothings. I mumble the nonsense of the world, but noone cares to listen. I mumble the nonsense of my heart, alive as it is idiotic, beating blindly for the frozen ones who dare not stay. Sometimes the laughter of the crowd is enough to heal me.

The many lists I've made of words that once made phrases lay around me unaware of their lack of definition. Phrases that once glorified emotions, faces that once resembled salvation now lay broken on the ground. I see them but cannot connect the lines and fix the puzzle once and for all.

This is no abyss, this is no end. This is not the limbo. Judgement is not valid in the waiting room. Far, how far we are, from that which we named heaven. Paradise is but an emergency exit. In the blur I struggle to recall what I was sent to do. They've taken my files with them, my name tag, so I am an enigma to myself. I open my mouth and mumble again, and out and loudly stumbles my ignorance, my excess of useless vocabulary, a fool dressed as a prophet in these days is the daily bread of the walking ones.

They feed from me and I wonder, if I bit myself, would I see the reflection too. Would I find in my skin traces of where I've been, narrations of loves I've lost, stories of women and men hidding in the trails of my veins. It is irrelevant to know the wars I've fought if am not yet victorious. it is damaging to understand the value of those words if I'm not able to pronnounce them.

They come into my house and take my ink away, but I do not chase them. Silently I stand from my chair, the bitten body aches, clumsy hands scratch the surface of me, and I become tired of mumbling. Half awake I sneak back to the cave where the voices of the crowd cease to exist.

Now I am nothing more than another petrified criature in the shadows. Now I am nothing more than another casualty of life. And so I wait for the sun to awake, and take me in his forgiving arms. I've not given up. Am recharging my soul.