He is looking for my pages
Housed within these walls.
He tiptoes softly, ignoring the whispering voices
Of those that have searched before him.
A cold chill vibrates through his skin.
He is close now.
His eyes are blank.
He stares, gazing upon the printed words
As if he were observing an obscured reflection
Of himself.
His face intense on me.
He is searching delicately
Slowly turning my old, fragile pages.
Releasing a tear
He sighs.
He has found out
All the secrets I ever knew.
Now he knows the truth.
He is looking through my pages.
He has been searching for so long.
April 2009
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