haunted.

the scrapes left behind

Haunted. A man possessed, not by motivation or drive, but emptiness, nothingness. An abandoned frame where a home once was. The cabin you find in the woods, roof sagging, nature reclaiming. Empty, alone, silent, yet the memories linger. You can still feel them. Faded, but still present. The feeling of something that was, but no longer is.

Days are weeks, and weeks are years. The calendar flips forward, impartial to your perception of its passage. “One day,” you tell yourself. “One day it will all make sense.” Yet yesterday, in fact all the recent yesterday’s, are the same. You run, you indulge, you tell yourself stories. Nothing changes. You confront, you address, you seek help. Nothing changes. Yesterday as today as tomorrow. A twisted circle spiraling into obsoletion.

Love realized and love lost. Chances given and taken back. Dreams become nightmares become memories become dreams. The halo of hindsight colours your past in beautiful, rich hues. Past confusion becomes clarity as current confusion grows. It looms large enveloping you in its shadow and slowly consumes you.

“What if?” you ask yourself. A question with no answer, trapping you in the past as the future slowly becomes it. Still, you can’t help but wonder. Victories are insignificant in the face of such monumental defeat. Time goes on, without consideration of your plight.

Echoes from next door. Laughter, anger, sadness, love. Memories made, lives being lived. They pass through you quickly and with little acknowledgment. Echoes from the past etch themselves into your psyche. Deep cuts, thick scars, the surface forever altered. A crude tag scratched into the bus stop glass. The light shines through the glass, forever refracted through the scrapes left behind.