The features of your face show sharply beneath the dim veil of the streelight. I find it hard to speak as your lips graze speech with such subtle descriptions of your time spent in my absence. I haven't been gone very long though I'm still quite sure I never left. It only seems that sunset has too quickly beckoned moonlight, and I never found the chance to slip between the shadows that commence therein. From the seperation between crowds unwilling to disperse I cast a glance in your direction to find the back of a head unwilling to turn. Consciously reluctant to tread upon the dawn of desperation, I swallow forcefully against the bitterness of pills that work to staunch the emergence of exiled memories. Before I am delivered from the repression of reality, I look back to see your face as you smile gracefully while emerced in entertained discussion with a seemingly innocent bystander. The eruption of unfaltering laughter reveals the purity of a beautiful face that never deserved to bear tears at the expense of the weathered ruins of the man I once was. The darkest of stormclouds assumes its place above our heads and I recoil into the recesses of artificial euphoria. It is too late now that the storm has come. I will be left alone as a shadow, condemned to walk against the harshest of winds. The only possession I will bear with me are the words that I record incessantly, a perpetual poisonous expulsion of prose and rhyme. I prepare to leave but falter for a moment as our eyes meet. You quickly avert your view and regain composition. Perhaps the time has come for my departure, seeing as I can no longer hope to stop the monster I've created.