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A visitor haunts my daydreams. From a dark distant past.

So close at times my eyes see shimmering reflections cast.

A second pulse beats in my head yet so far away.

Spin the old, tired lie.

Trying not to think.

Speak freely of loss.

Schemes and drama slowly sink.

Cast empty black souls into darkness.

Hoping to find any semblance of self.

Something comfortably kind,

to prevent me from losing my mind.

Pale moons pass without static acts.

Dancing waves seem to behave,

like a ghost swimming my bloodstream.

Scavenging fragments of damage left behind.

Obsession, peeling back skin.

Forever waiting to begin.