I stand terrified.
Stone in my shoes.
Face to face with a monster.
The monster itself was crouched squeezing it's knees.
My gaze locked with wide emerald eyes. Staring deep revealing a clearer image.

Words written on every inch of the skin. Nothing bare.
No hint of clean scriptless skin.
Just ink.
The words themselves grotesque.
Deep descriptive fears of one's self.
Words that have been hidden but never forgotten.

Thin limbs.
Simply skin covering bone.
Just a thin barrier keeping the body safe.Fragile bony hands that were bound at the wrist.
Restricted.
Enchained.

The face was the worst.
Dark hollow cheeks.
Pale dry lips cracked from movement.
Dark craters lie under the pits that hold the soul.

I knew that face.
That face was mine.

Stardust in cupped hands A blow of the wind sends it off into the dark abyss. The only tiny sparks of light in that echoing space. Like a sudden strike of flint against stone.
Other darkness lurking in the unknown.
All others forgotten. No trace of kindness.
But that spark. That spark is all that was needed to ignite a flame. A flame that rages on an eternal flame. It dies but never eternally. Always a trace. A spark.

The glimmer of the sweat on your brow.
The light in your smile.
The throaty sound of your laugh.
The rays shining through the window in the passenger seat of your car.
The distance that slowly appeared.
The cold shoulder I got without as little as a reason why.
The nervous fidget of your hands as you spilled out an excuse.
The flush of your face when you told me we were done.
The the ice of the tears cried.
The day you left.

The creaks of the walls setting. The silent pitter of the leaky facet in the hall bathroom. That black stain on the entryway rug. The intoxicating light scent of lavender incense. These are the things that made home......home. Now its all a distant memory, for I have moved on. Moved out. Gone.