Another Walk.

Alonesty.



I returned
a third time
(maybe fourth)
to the snowy woods
that have framed many of my words
it is unseasonably warm
but still icy
and the blood trail is still fresh
it is mine
and the footsteps are mine too
And I remember coming here
to lay my past selves to rest
to execute my inner demons
to give them proper burial

so here I am
staring at the corpses of the things I used to regret
the bodies of the people I used to be
and I have come here to reflect
on who will join them

And suddenly the camera pans
and in a line
my sins all stand
careful as to not disrupt
the silhouette
of whom they reflect
made in my image
but imperfect

like me

Will I leave this place alone?
how many times must I cleanse
before the cycle ends
before the ghosts are not ghosts
but spectres
guardians

They are silent
the lecher
the addict
he who dwells
he who seeks vengeance

and I take a part of each with me
when I leave
and my footsteps carry my own blood
to the gates of this place yet again
and the wind blows
as it often does
and it is a few degrees warmer this time.
perhaps the ice will thaw
and these relics of my regrets
will fade into the earth

four down.

how many to go?
Maybe just one.
and he won't have me to bury him.

I smile.

Yes. It's definitely warmer this time.