Pack Up And Away...

Illuminated and loud. The pulse of Patpong is racing, seemingly seeking an imagined destination. My eyes dart around unsure where to rest. A bicycle rushes by and I'm pushed into a doorway, halted for a moment. That's when I seen her. A face full of words, though impossible for her to ever put them on a page. Words spoken silently and seldom heard.

Crowded streets and empty hearts. People looking blindly. Somehow I seen you. The tormented eyes, deep in hopelessness. The pain wretches up inside. I try to interrupt my gaze, but my eyes are drawn back to you like they're on a thread. Empathy spills through me. A Communion of sorts. Is this my gift or my affliction? I often ask this.

I am sure I can feel your thoughts. I find myself hating this world. My heart sinks into the concrete beneath. The sun beats down relentlessly all day in Patpong. The heat lingers on the streets at night, while neon lights make it seem as though darkness is yet to come. But I shiver and tremble knowing there is no light in the world of the night you're from.

I'm sure I've seen this face before though I know it's not possible. A foreign landscape, one to which you were born and one I have never known. But so familiar is this face, I know how it lies and I know why it lies.

Later that night as I wash the day away, I lift my head from the sink, staring through the mirror, past the replica, instead my reflection is the ambling of my mind.

The familiar face again. I know why I knew you. Why I knew those eyes. The gift is my burden, the hurt down deep inside. Worlds apart, without a word but in a glimpse I understood. The silence when no one wants to hear any of your words.