festive nights

with withered bones and wrinkled skin
like a dark mass of shadowy matter
floating silently through the majestic doors
flitting through the stretched benches of the church
under the cloak of darkness.
as he shys away from the pale blue moon light casted through the minute windows of the corridors
he walks faster ..
wishing his heart would be more silent than the loud booming that it caused upon his eardrums
his pale skin , his dark maroon cloak, his blood shot eyes.
he drift now aimlessly and chances upon a family ..
the room filled with laughter
and a warm amber glow as a man kisses his wife on the cheek as their children run about a tiny tables giggling to themselves.
his pupils dilate.
he sees clearly..
she whom should belong to him ..
his blood shot eyes turn a uniform blackness that spread outwards from the iris ,
polluting the sclera.
his heart stops..
he holds his breath .
but as he tries to breath out ..
he realises that he can no longer feel anything
he can no longer smell anything..
his mouth tastes parch like dessert sand on a hot afternoon .
he tries to scream but all his efforts lead only to a burning sensation in his throat ..
he walks out of the church
weeping tears of arsenic that seem to freeze the sides of his cheeks..
he flits silently back among the people and crwod in the carnival ..
clowns mocking him,
jugglers trying to hit him with the fiery torches they throw into the air.
his animal friends being whipped silly by idiots in tight costumes..
yet ..
what is this?
a girl?
crying in the corner of the festivals square? her bluee eyes winking up at his own..
who are you he asks?