the changeling

After Death

i came into your life and took it for mine

like a changeling, a faded facsimile of someone who lived 

stepping into you as you step away 

doing exactly what you did only with none of your skill.


i was never good at this, life.  


i walk into a room as if you walked out just now

and again and on and on forever, always looking for a shadow

some thumbprint left behind that hasn't faded away

and swirled into the dust that tortured you.


i was never good at this, solitude.


the holiest shrine, the last thing untouched has moved.

i swear i heard you right next to me.  tiny grains of sand

keep falling faster and everything changes except the changeling

standing still and perplexed by the swirling stars.


i was never good at this, change.


i guard your shrine and await instructions

standing in the footsteps of one who knew what to do

i am your rottweiler and your priestess

if i can find something i'm good at


i was never that good.


in this landscape of relics and bizarre politics

where nothing is left unscathed

i will listen more to silence 

and learn you to fill your void


and be as if i never was


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allets's picture

A Song of Solitude

To vanish - it seems for the vacuum left. I send empathy.