The necklace you gave me became a choker. I could no longer breathe with it there. I had to remove it. I could not see the brightness in the stars or sense the air in my lungs. It was time to remove the necklace – to remove you. Everything you gave me has the feeling of dampness, the feeling of fog taking over. My eyes were blurring, and I could not see clearly anymore.
What were you to me? You were not as represented. You were not yourself. Were you? Is this the you that has always been? Why, why has the presentation changed? Maybe the choker has grasped on for the last bit of clarity that I had when I saw you.
When I saw you, everything changed. You were there; you were something; you became a reality. What are you? What is real in this moment? There are differences in you; I am now able to see. The differences that are now composing the reality.
The reality of what you are – what you were, what is real? Will I ever know? I do not know that I will see the light behind the clouds. I do not know that the moon will ever uncover itself again. You became something that is no longer there.
I may never know what you are – I believed to know what you were. I do not know if that was ever the reality. I fought and believed you to be something. I believed you to be so much more than what was there. I believed every snake that slithered out of your mouth.
I thought to myself that this was something that would be real. Was it ever? Was anything ever real? You will never tell me the truth. When I look at you now, all I can see are the snakes slithering out. They are not the truth. Tell me they are not the truth!
I want to believe that they are. All I have ever wanted is reality. I wanted the truth to be with you. More than I have ever wished anything, I wanted it to be you. I hoped that you were the truth behind the snakes. Now looking back, all I can see are the snakes. Slithering, hissing, angrily at me. They wanted me to see the truth too, did they not?
You were what I wanted. You were always what I wanted. The snakes never had to be apparent. The snakes never had to exist. You created them to save your self, and what has that left you with? Transparent, alone. Neglected, sadness. There is nothing left to you. You have run out of time. That is all that is the truth now. You have run out of time. There is nothing more to say.
Time is up. What snake should I be expecting next?