I see a mystic alley, treeless and barren, adjacent to an apartment building which contains no signs of life. The alley is full of dark feelings, for it is late at night. I see spiders hanging from the sill of an old friends window. The tiny beasts, gracefully weaving a new home for themselves. I envy them and wish I could reform the many broken pieces of the life I once lived, just like they are, without the fear of forming it the wrong way. I see the gleam of the moon, reflecting light off of dirty aluminum trash cans. Alley cats surround these cans, scrounging for the nourishing waste left behind by humans. It's necessary for them to do this, in order to survive in their world. I see a dusty cardboard box. It was once the home of a homeless person. I am sad, because I start to think that I will never enter my home again. It is a fearful feeling, to be homeless. I see water, dripping from a spigot attached to the side of the apartment building. A shiver runs through my body, because I am mistaking the water for blood, thick incipient drops, slowly falling to the ground. I see the shadow of an old friend, weeping at the news brought on by a lover, before ending it all to be part of another world. I see my friend lying motionless by the side of his bed, his eyes showing great fear of death. I am questioning his state of consciousness, but have the awful answers in the back of my mind. I see my freind's ghost leaving the apartment through the back door. He walks into the alley, to be with the spiders, cats and bums. He looks lonely and I need to be a part of him. I see myself becoming a sheer, glassy being, finally recognizable to my companion. I am lifeless, yet I feel content. I walk down the alley to be with my soulmate, we are finally together again, thinking the same thoughts, wishing the same wishes.
Reason for writing:
Some view life as a search for a soulmate. I question whether or not my
soulmate exists, and this poem is just a situation in which the person
could be a ghost.
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Alex Westhoff.