With every step
I can feel the cloud of heat around me
growing stronger.
It’s been so long since I’ve
heard my own footsteps here.
This is my favorite silence,
light buzz of dim lighting,
a door close every now and then
on the floors beneath.
I retrace every year before me
with the words I carved here.
This is embarrassing.
Every letter reveals a person
I feel I’ve never known,
pathetic in self-pity,
A mirror to my past
whose reflection I don’t recognize.
I’m glad she’s gone.
A while ago I tried to scribble away
some of my stories,
but my marker was so weak.
They are a part of me.
Beneath one of them
I notice a stranger’s replies,
but they are only that:
words of a stranger,
meaningless without an identity.
I remember why I stopped coming here now.
I stopped needing it,
because I couldn’t find my answers up here.
I’m not sure I ever did.
I guess you have to know what you’re searching for
in order to find it.
So, instead of prolonging this reflection,
I descend to fresh, evening air
and breathe in the thoughts
that brought me back to life.
That place only strangled me peacefully.
A gust of wind places it’s palm on my cheek
and utters,
“Chin up, dear,
the world needs you today.”
So, I walk away quietly.