The Echoes of Future Past

Drifting aimlessly in the rain, they search for signs of life all night long. Along all those pathways, past all those doors that are never open to them. Out there, the sorrowful ones, falling silently in the dark. Their smiles faded, theirs eyes sunken through years of being lost, they wander unseen in the shadows. So many souls, forgotten like all those yesterdays. Reaching out when I pass them, they desperately want to be saved, but they can’t go into the light, for its truth is too piercing. Laying in bed struggling to sleep hours later, they call to me, aching for my touch to make them feel alive once more. Suffocating, debilitating. Wrapped up in lonely dreams, they cling to my bones. There’s no escaping them, they never leave. They’re everywhere. Their love given nowhere to go, all they can do is haunt. Slipping away, the sound of faraway laughter drifts in the breeze, the scent of lust in the early hours singing softly across fields of golden corn. Of angles and alcohol, lonesome lovers and dulling nerves. Tossing and turning with the rain pouring outside, I walk back over all those footsteps and breathe in the sunshine of days long since gone. The scent of love, the taste of desire. Eternal like stardust. In my mind, everything is alive, there is no end. All exists, together, arm in arm, like the moon and stars. Stars that have been dead for years, yet still shining brightly. In the face of all those burning gods, the ghosts feel so small. Their memories pale in comparison, they know that with each passing day, they’re slipping further out of reach. They’ll do anything to save themselves from oblivion. They’ll follow you everywhere, they’ll haunt your every living moment, just so they aren’t forgotten. In dreams is where they thrive, when you’re open to their suggestion. Sometimes, what they show you can be beautiful. Those flashes of truth, of bare flesh and nude bellies. Hands grabbing soft ankles, fingers caressing thighs and breasts. Together, entwined. Those shining moments where you exist out of time, when love is forever. But then there are all those other moments, and in those, there’s nothing but the persistence of loss. The paths you were never meant to walk, the broken wings that were never meant to fly. Shadows on the wall, voices in the back of your mind. They’ll always call your name, always mourn the loss of beauty and how they’re now swimming in darkness, destined to live out without end. Limbo, swallowing them completely, never letting them find release. In the early hours of the morning when all is quiet, they slip themselves between the sheets with me, wishing to be warm once more. Wishing not to fade away. Sometimes I hold them in my arms and let them feel alive. Sometimes, I give them a little love to carry them through the emptiness they suffer in, give them a little hope that one day they’ll find home. But only sometimes.

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4 replies »

  1. So intense and so beautiful. You call them echoes, I always called them ghosts. And yes, they are always lingering, scared of dying and to be forgotten.

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