Dark Wandering Here

If only I could be as blind to Yesterday as I am with Tomorrow...

There is a dark wandering in Here...

Here, where the sounds of footsteps are shadowed beneath the weight of memory,
its crushing resonance reverberated within blood and bone.
The air is decayed with the dusty feel of rust, Here,

and the sickly sweet smell of mold is thick enough to taste.
Walls are mirrored with loss, Here, a reflection felt in shimmers,

vibrating with every inhaled breath from the regret of what was,
as the vision fogs the glass in an exhale of what will no longer be.

It is my tears that gloss the floor, Here,

as pain dampens the puddled shards of moments & memories
in echoes that ask if I should be crying or bleeding from my eyes.
Bereft of light, I am swathed and veiled in a motionless space Here,
like the void that enfolds a coffined body.
And I stagger numb,  as if  frozen, as if dead -without destination or purpose-
further into the replicating abyss that has replaced my mind,

in Here.
 

-Rg