...To Be Continued Poem by Michael Matsuda

Read 'The Invasion' first...

Dear Silhouette,

How are you always able to look up? The sun must be blinding. No, you are blinding. To look down, like myself, it is safer than meeting gazes of others and the constant act of obliviousness is wearing thin. It's so easy being negative.
(I look past the sun to the heavens. Positives need the negatives; opposites attract)
Nobody would fathom of wanting this! To feel cast asunder. The sands of time fall through the curves and I find myself racing them to the bottom of the glass. If not the reaper, then I have tipped the hourglass. A name is but a title and a purpose is the thesis of this paper. Why wait for the conclusion? It restates the obvious... I know the end, I skipped the pages. I stand on these rooftops screaming, but who answers?
(I would, let me be the rebounding echoes of your distressed shrill)
I'm tired of staying awake all night with my eyes burning to be closed. I think of someone but I only see you, Silhouette. I hope this person would step into the light to reveal the face that will embrace me. I cannot bear to be alone any longer. I'm drowning in my thoughts. They fill my head, my heart, and my lungs.
(I'm your silhouette, I can be there)
Who are you Silhouette? What takes you so long to escape the shadows?
(One day, I can show you how to be happy, to stare at the stars, to stare past the end, to stare at the present with a hopeful gleam.)
I hope you will end this invasion; the thoughts of solitude and strength are becoming a burden. Desperate hopelessness. Tired inquiries. Rekindled hope? Can you be that person? The one I can talk to; this mask is suffocating. This place is a prison; my place, my mind, my heart is chained by the abyss. I need to go... The soul search has ended. I have given up. How big is a soul? how Bright? Where do I start looking? My insides are easy to look through. I have a blue heart and the hallowed out core where my soul once called home. It's okay, my stubborn attitude has a new place to hide skeletons; my closet is full.
(Stop being negative, what do you want me to think? Look up. Please look up... please... Are you listening? Your ears are deaf and your thoughts are set in stone and put on repeat. You are mute and your eyes are closed shut? Please, your touch is numb...)

Sincerely,
Ghost Among the Crowds