I am a visitor here. I am not permanent.
by Aaron Blair
The body casts a shadow
on the back of my mind,
girl-shaped, rotting in a forest,
where no one knows its name.
It was a person once, and loved,
before it wandered too far afield,
into a darkness filled with envy
for anything that has a light inside.
It didn't know its life could be taken
at any time at all, gone in an instant,
flesh stripped from bone,
sightless eyes pecked out
from a withering skull.
Maybe it would have chosen differently,
if it could have chosen anything at all.
We are all destined to become bodies,
mere shadows of the human beings
we always took for granted that we were.
Author's Note: It was two years, yesterday, since she disappeared.
The title is from "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight" by The Postal Service.
Posted on 09/24/2012
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair