Non material but yet very much real. Lurking within the chambers and casting splendid tangled shadows. You see the ghost of my past; it’s tied to the ghost of my future. The ghost of my present is caught between the two. They’re continually shifting, like tectonic plates, pushing, grinding, burning hot from the friction. Partially blinded, no wholly blinded to their own agenda. The seduction is slowly grinding me away.
I labor to breathe as the heat and constriction is so immense. The inferno engulfs my third eye completely, obscuring my vision. Slowly my essence is beginning to liquefy and flow with no dykes to contain and to guide them. What is and was me are now flowing into oblivion.
My conscience comes alive as my body finds some semblance of my former control. Rising with a start like a familiar biblical tale, my body trembles with uncertainty. At last I gasp, the coolness rushes in, as the sweat bubbles upon every surface, looking to cleanse like anointed waters.
With my feet now rooted firmly on the cold cement floor, hanging far too low is my head as if its invisibly weighted. Forcing my head up only to see the murder. Like crows gazing upon carrion, the mirror stares at me, ravenously and hauntingly. My body moving, sounding like unbroken leather, protesting against every action. Working my non conforming jaw, the hot winds that were once cool expel from within me.
Odd thoughts that are now set adrift within my mind, like puzzles with missing pieces. I find myself staring at my hands, examining the foreign objects; rotating them, wondering how and when they got there. With all my might I try to recall images of my old hands, the color, feel and strength, but the images are fleeting at best.
My eyes search for something that once was and something that should have never been. At times we do not wish or cannot see the change that is needed or wanted for ourselves. Like a ploughless farmer staring at his barren land, as the cold, harsh winter greets him like a playful lover. She wraps him in her icy embrace as he holds onto the seeds. I accepted my fate but not the outcome as to who I was supposed to be. Change is hard, unemotional and never forgiving. We are always caught between the two ghosts, grinding up all that they can. I’ve found change and peace that doesn’t exist only in death.