and the voices come at night
from the sink
from the half light
of a half dream
from the phone unanswered
chapstick
echoes from another space
perhaps another time
to show us glimpses
clues
visions of apocalypse
do we wish to play
and what are we willing to sacrifice
roaches in a jar
this is your wake-up call

I made my way
finally
to Point Pleasant
I crossed the Silver Bridge
and walked the blood soaked fields
where the Battle of Kanawha took place
I walked the streets and absorbed the energy
that hovered like unseen clouds
I approached an older woman walking her dog. She was very sweet and made me think of my Mom, God rest her soul. I knew there would be no harsh words or anger from this gentle lady.
I asked her with a friendly smile if she had a story of the Mothman she might share.
'Not the Mothman, she said...but I do have a story.
One from childhood that I've yet to tell anyone, not even my parents. I was maybe 11 or 12 and walking home after playing and it was getting late. I caught something out of the corner of my eye. When I looked, I saw a large plane losing altitude. It just came closer and closer until it leveled out and passed by very close. So close that I could see the passengers in their seats looking straight ahead, silhouetted against the light behind them. I could see their faces. It went by and then gained altitude again. The strangest thing is that I never heard a sound.
I'm not sure why I told you that story. I always felt that people would think I'm crazy. I suppose I can see that you are truly interested. So there you have it.'

I saw the museum, the ammo bunkers and TNT plant and went back to the hotel. I awoke the next morning to find two odd looking drops of blood on my pillow...still fresh. It startled me and I got up to see if it may have come from my ear. As I headed to the bathroom, I noticed more blood on the foot of the bed. In the bathroom there were 2 spots of fresh blood on the floor. I checked the mirror and found no blood in my ears. No nicks from shaving. No nicks on my arms, shoulders, neck or head. I have no idea whatsoever where that blood originated. And here's what really spooked me. They look like 2 very strange faces.

There were no phone calls from Indrid Cold. No prophecies of planes crashing or bridges collapsing, but I left Point Pleasant, West Virginia with a distinct and clear sense that I had tapped into an energy, peeked behind the curtain of Oz and maybe, just maybe I got their attention.

Butterflies do not cocoon
Only moths are of that sway
They instead do the Chrysalis
They were born to be that way

So next time you write that line
Put up a disclaimer I say
Only moths cocoon in time
Butterflies don't cross dress that way