I sat there, not saying a word. To paranoid that I would scare away the figure lingering on the wall.
Although I would have normally been scared. This being seemed to fragile. As if some part was cut from this poor creature. So, I waited until I could find the words, ever still lingering on my tongue. Suppressing them as they would have gladly went past my lips without a thought.
In a voice so soft, barely audible. I spoke, a question to be asked is what I desired, and that's what I was going to do. The real question to think of, was if I was to have an answer.
"Shadow, shadow on the wall, why do you sit there and weep all your time away?"
The sound of silence had met my ears. No more did I hear of the echoing sobs. Instead a voice even softer from my own spoke up.
"Because, dear child... My body has left me behind. Leaving me here to my ever present thoughts. Oh and such gruesome and terrible thoughts they are."
Tilting my head to the side I wonder aloud of what could trouble a species such as it.
"The thought of never truly existing."
Then he was gone. Banished by the appearance of day and light.
YOU ARE READING
Thinking Is A Nasty Habit
PoetryThis is just some of my poetry that I couldn't keep in anymore. They're my thoughts on how people feel, and what I feel. I did this particularly to see if anyone else thought similar or felt anything for whatever I write.
