Silence

Hello, old friend.

It is good to see you. You are my oldest memory and my biggest secret. Please don't lose me again.

Are you listening?

There's something that I've been wanting to say. Words have never been enough. The meanings are too few.

Do you hear that?

The sound of pen against paper...fingers flitting across keys and sore thumbs. I'll make it better.

Can you see me?

I am the train, or the light at the end of many tunnels. They twist and turn and hide me well.

Is anyone there?

I feel an echo many times the size of my being. It is emptily full. You feel strange through my skin.

Do you feel that?

It's time, running like sand through our fingers. Caught in our hair and gritty on our tongues.

How many are left?

So many, yet so few. Will you remember us? We leave, one by one, going beyond these high walls.

Where are you now?

Everywhere. I am falling apart and to pieces. Held together in memory and desire, in slow motion.

What happened?

Who knows? I cannot remember. Maybe it has already happened. Maybe I am happening now, or will, one day.

How do you feel?

Alive. Everything pulses with life and aches with decay. My days are stripped from me one by one.

You let this happen?

It is the only thing that can happen. My soles sink deep and the dirt gathers under my fingernails. Keep going.

Why do you do it?

Because I must. How could I not? All these choices; humidity builds in my cells and it is all carved forever on my bones.

Do you have the answer?

No, just many, many questions.

Is it the end?

No. A new beginning.

Will I see you again?

Always.

Are you okay?

Yes.

Goodbye.

Old friend.