I wish he would have spoken up, given me the story behind the crimson stains on the hem of his sleeve, given me a little piece of himself before he vanished altogether. It was only then, standing at the foot of the gray cobblestone rock that I understood the pain and horrible nightmares that he subjected himself to. No one realized that even when the sun was high in the sky, smiling down as the children down the street ran through their sprinklers and doused each other in warmth and prosperity, that he was constantly in the dark, a midnight so black that the last flicker of flame inside him was kissed and put out by the cold. It was only then, as I stood by his grave and felt the earth, dead and cold beneath my feet...
I understood exactly how his
demons devoured him whole.
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