There are some nights when shortly before sleep takes me captive, drowsy from the intoxication of fatigue, my senses dulled to most external stimuli that a gentle whisper pries open the latch on my heart and mind as they shut down for the night. Always the same word. A whisper of my name. Muttered in a barely audible ghostly tone. A gentle onslaught on my eardrums that forces its way past limbo into my subconscious. An echo that bounces off the walls of the void in my heart and disappears off into unfathomable depths. Mapping out my vulnerable heart and exposing every crevice and the other shadows that hide therein. Creatures long forgotten that hug the embrace of every cleft available. Hidden from view. Long hidden from me. Creatures awoken from dormancy by the ghostly whisper. Kindred spirits trapped in a prison of my own making.
As the apparitions drag their feet across my heart's floor each step taken conjures up surreal memories of a non-existant relationship. Etched across the darkened sky in my heart's horizon is a silhouette of her. Ever present yet never really there. The constellations strewn across the sky the glitter in her ghostly skin. The lingering shadow of a could-have-been no longer without. It has taken up residence within. A pied piper piping unearthly melodies into my heart's void. The shadows mere rats caught in a trance. Hundreds of beady eyes glittering in the darkness almost like a reflection of the night sky above strewn across a sea of darkness. Some benign, most malignant gnawing away at my heart. Yet, there is catharsis in this as they unearth repressed emotions which bubble to the surface in a cataclysmic flood. Hit by wave after wave of emotion I'm jolted awake.
In my stupor, I can hear the ghostly whispers from the night before now projected onto my bedroom walls. Haunting melodies the only selection from an ethereal juke box. Shadows stretching across the full width of the ballroom floor yet never quite all encompassing. Then a sudden stop. Dead silence then brightness. Its all over just as mysteriously as it started.
*Image credit: Pinterest.