I sat in the corner of my mind, a frigid, barren room,
A dreadful place full of my woes and gloom.

No one had ever dared disturbed me here,
But, suddenly, a figure almost resembling a shadow appeared.

“Timid girl, why are you all alone?”
They asked as they stood mere inches from me, an invisible stare upon me all but unknown.

“Why is your skin completely gray?” I replied.
“Now please, go away.”

“Timid girl, why are you so sad?”
The figure ignored my words, its tone almost sounding glad.

“How do you speak, see, and stare with no face?” I hissed.
“Once again, leave my quiet place.”

“Timid girl, why do you silently judge others?”
Its voice mocked me then, sounding like a worried mother’s.

“Where did you come from, shadow of annoyance?” I inquired.
“Answer my questions, and stop your overrated flamboyance.”

“Timid girl, why are you so terrified of the world?”
An invisible mouth became a wicked grin, the corner of the figure’s mouth crudely curled.

“Please shut your mouth and let me be.” My mood has been soured.
“Your intention seems to be to incessantly bother me.”

“Timid girl, why is your heart so full of hate?”
The figure must’ve thought that answers to its questions were fate.

“Shadow, I am all alone because I am hated.
Figure, I am depressed because my happiness is jaded.
Annoyance, I quietly judge because I fear hurting the few whom I treasure and love.
Gray skin, I am terrified of the world because I don’t want it to spear my heart with its spiked glove.
Incriminating stare, my heart is so full of hate because I have never belonged anywhere, even at home.”
My face was now covered in furious tears,
Ones I had been holding in for years.
“Ghost from the past, now that you know what you wanted, please go back to your own lonely gravestone.”

As the mysterious soul left as quickly as it came,
The immense loneliness my mind once held was never quite the same.
Some days it seemed to be slightly brighter,
And other days it seemed so dark and hopeless that just to see you needed a lighter.

Either way, I realized the conscience I’d tried so hard to forget was the same as I.
All it wanted to know about the world was “Why?”