Shade

It comes slowly at first

a single silent

kiss on

the back of your neck, or

the single shadow

before the sunrise, or

the single breath

before the waterless plunge.

It's not something you notice

at least at first

it walks slowly

toward you

behind you

and the shuffling of

its feet become lost

in the sigh of life

and yet it walks.

It follows.

It hides in your shadow

and live in your subconscious.

Once it's there

it feed off you,

plucking ever so feebly

at

your heartstrings and

slurping ever so faintly

on your eye balls.

And sure, you'll notice changes

you may lose an eyelash

you may lose a clover

but yet you don't know

the reason.

You'll shrug

dip your head

and continue on.

Little do you know,

it's feeding.

What's more:

it's growing.

And as it grows

it starts to laugh

it knows it's killing you

it knows how desperate you can become

so it makes itself known

it's in

the silence of the darkness

the space of enclosure

and the iciness of loneliness.

It's in the bump in the night

or the burning of your arteries

when you're all alone.

It's in the dread

of the beast

all knowing and all consuming

hiding behind these words

as you're reading them.

The blood in its mouth

pooling in the U's

and dripping off the M's

And at this point

it's too much

far too powerful

for you to be able

to pull it away.

It's leeched

to the side of your

brain and has indeed

fused itself to you.

Your mind webbed from inside

by this forgotten

opaque creature.

And now the others can see it

and the way it's dismantling you.

At first they'll notice

your fingernails

slowly changing into

cloudy windows

of purple and blue.

They they'll see

your eyes

or the lack thereof.

They'll start to count

the holes in your irises

and the lines

on your retinas

then

the body parts.

They'll watch

as your arms and legs

fall off, majestic in

their silent dissolving.

And finally

at the end

there will come a day

at the end.

A day where you've become

so used to

seeing without eyes

and walking without feet.

One day, when you're

dying in your bed

and it decides to leave.

It leaves slowly at first,

every withdrawal from your brain

igniting a thousand

a million fires in your mind

and you forget what you forgot

and repress what you've repressed

Now faster it withdraws

spark like sand

washing over your tired brain

and you'll scream

and it'll laugh

and twist as it lets go

and finally,

it'll be free.

Strong enough to live on its own

and there you'll be

saying last words

breathing in your last

ice laced breath

and crying your last

bitter tear

into the purple light.

It has come, and has gone

and you're dying

in its passing

and you'll ask your God

Why?

And you'll receive no answer.

You'll be left in the silence of darkness

screaming silent lullabies

at nothing at all.