You. You came into my life like the storm that you are, scented cedar and pine, fresh as the rain. Your smile was never a show of friendship but a warning, a slow show of teeth, a growl. It was what made me step back before I leaned too close, to draw my hand away before the burn, to always admire from silent hallways and to never hope for recognition.

I missed you before I even knew you, answered what was in your soul before we touched, knew that one day I would press my hand to yours and know the exchange of energy, the bind between atoms, the soul deep rope that wrapped around both our necks.

The silence has always suited you. To stand next to you was to drown in it, to devour it like dark chocolate, a depth so immense it had the bitter salt taste of blood, of loss, of sorrow, of pain.

We understood that too well. I know why you cover the scars on your pale arms with ink as black as my hair, understand why you sneer when you see me look. You speak without words and I answer in the only way I can, in silent communion with your beautiful, ageless spirit.

Maybe we were lovers in another life.

Maybe you were only ever false light that I rushed towards, reckless and inherent as the short lived moth, rushing towards a flame that can only wound, can only kill. Maybe I drove that knife too deep into my own belly. I knew that night that you would be the ghost that would haunt my sleep, the dream I would always wake and long for, condemned to always reach and never to find, always seeing you turn away into the arms of another.

Our touch was our curse. The fading memory our brief embrace is the blade that I drag across my flesh, again and again, seeking an answer to the question that neither of us would ever name.

The only thing I would ever ask is to never be released from the prison of your sheltering arms.

Soul catcher, you took what you knew was yours. You wound it away like thread out of my throat and through my mouth, and without even the kindness of a memory, you left with what had once been mine. You are the fear in my dream and the shadow in my doorway. Winter will never be the same again.