untitled

this is now in all four of my journals. (lj, blogger, blogger, and actual notebook...) i really couldn't tell you where the hell it came from.

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- start -

I think my soul has curled up in my mind and died.

In your mind?

Yes, it crawled up there and died.

From your heart?

From beneath my heart. From below it.

And have you died?

My body has not died. My mind has not died. But I am not alive.

You are the living dead then?

I am the speaking dead. My soul has curled up in my mind and died.

Why in your mind?

Because the floor was soft wood. Because the boxes hid it. Because the attic window still let in a little light through the dust.

Then why die?

Because it was tired.

Did it sleep?

It will not wake. I am the speaking dead. My soul has curled up in my mind and died.

Are there others like you?

The other’s souls are dust, but they are alive. My soul crunches like a dead leaf. My soul is an exoskeleton.

Do you really need your soul then?

What is need?

I cannot answer that.

I know. Need is only the strongest desire.

And you believe that?

I cannot believe anything. My soul crunches like a dead leaf. It will not wake. I am the speaking dead. My soul has curled up in my mind and died.

Is there no faith without a soul?

Is faith an emotion?

I cannot answer.

I know. I cannot believe anything. My soul crunches like a dead leaf. It will not wake. I am the speaking dead. My soul has curled up in my mind and died.

Can you see yourself?

I cannot see what has no reflection.

Then you do not know that you are growing?

Riddles often grow.

Are you a riddle then?

I shall try to eat my own tail.

Will that give you an answer?

Nothing will give me an answer.

Nothing?

Nothing. I cannot believe anything. My soul crunches like a dead leaf. It will not wake. I am the speaking dead. My soul has curled up in my mind and died. I will eat my own tail.

And will it save you?

It might.

- stop -

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