FORGET ME NOT

V

I'VE WRITTEN HIM letters. A stash of carefully sealed letters, existing in clandestine, far from the mortal mind. He'll never know of them, just as he will never know of me. This me, the monster in my bathroom mirror, is not the same as the me from all that time ago. Blessed with neither life nor death, he was caged between two accursed realms; forever wand'ring the limbo. He did not dare cross either gateway for fear of the unknown.

"Where would you have gone?"

His body no more, his soul was sat alongside his incinerated remains.

"Where could I have gone?"

He did not belong, and he had yet to die. Hanging on hinges, unable to reach the noose. His toes just barely carrying him across the esoteric plains, he danced amidst the leering shadows hiding in plain sight, behind the candlelight. The candlelight, serving as hearth, lit with matches as the wood began to catch. The wax hissed in warning, alas there was not a soul to heed.

"Why do we smell of burnt flesh?"

And in the vigil, in the morgue, in the coffin, in the urn, bellowing whispers resonate from beyond the veil of his chestnut brown eyes. Finally, his thoughts become decipherable.

Synonymous to my own. Am I surprised?

Forget me not.