Lorenzo Buford

Imaginary Poet


The Noises in Him

I touched him;
and I heard the noises;

and while I wanted to silence them,
they are his voices.

They are his demons.

They are his fears,

his collective delusions;

and he thinks
when we merge together,
we can share in the noises of his world.

I do not want his noises.
He is only fiction seeking reality.

It is not a world I chose to venture in
so I offer him a smile,
a touch on the hand,
a caress on the face;

and I walk away from the character who dances with me in shadows.

His noises attempt to consume him
as they tear the pages of reality between them.

The noises want
to download their stories into him
which will cause him
to melt
into a chaotic state;

and this vampire
walks in day and night
looking for those
who need a place to bleed into
when the world does not know their name.

I wanted to touch him;
but he hears only the noises.
and not me.

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