All those little trinkets,
bracelets, rings and even a boombox,
that he had others bring to me,
They were all stolen goods that vexed people would come and claim back time after time.
I never had the heart to tell him to stop.
He reminded me too much of a stray cat who’d finally found a temporary home,
where he would bring tributes to
his mistress feet.
When I asked him what he was doing sleeping outside
my front door.
He blushed and mumbled,
that he would protect me from bad guys who could break in
and steal me away.
How crazy and scary of a notion was that?
And yet....
He made me think of a dancing bear who finally could scent freedom without chains.
The day
when they came to take him away.
...
I tried to tell them that he would never hurt me.
That he merely collected broken shards of scattered treasures
that deep inside him spoke about who he really was,
before the drugs castrated his future self.
Later...
When going through the rubble he left behind,
I found the glimmer of a hauberk
forged for an Avalonian knight.
I'm a "soul whisperer" meaning that I'd rather speak with people whom I can identify some kind of sincerity from. Some broken spirits I have met in life, I do strongly believe they were the voices of Heaven.