Like pages of a note book blown across a subway floor

I need to search within to find why this is happening . It seems it all has come full circle

from the beginning    I have been missing something —some element —no.... some fundamental piece of the puzzle .... what is it?

for me, it is always the obvious that I miss

what is it?

I have to go away. Far away. Literally now to retreat. Not even by my own choice this time

just to survive

so I wonder why.... why must I survive? What is the point? Just like I ask my lord Agamemnon why.... why was I sent back to my body that day when I saw my own body dead? I reached the gate and was told it was not my time. I saw my killer leave my dead body there. This broken little mashed bit of road kill I was. I saw myself —he left me for dead and walked to the dorm room door.

How did he know I was even there?

Is that the piece I have never fully examined?

You see, I did not go back to my dorm that night because I knew he was after me. I told my sister I had to hide from him. She gave me the key to her dorm room. It happened in her dorm room. That window in the picture

How did he know I was there?

I should be dead.

Even the surgeons I’ve gone to have told me this. Based on the damage of my vertebrae as he crushed my throat and waited until I breathed no more. Watched me and laughed at me as he squeezed the air from my lungs, bending my fingers back as I struggled, breaking them and bargaining with me his mercy for something to trade for a quicker end

How did he know I was there? South Hall, across campus by the old gym

The phone call? Who was it?

Who indeed.... my worst enemy from childhood wanting to finish the job begun by the belt wielder

I have been so scared and now I don’t think I care anymore because I’m too tired to keep up the energy required for this fear. I’m getting sloppy leaving my clues around as if I tempt fate because I’m so tired of running. And hiding. So tired of hiding

Why was my life spared? He left me for dead and when that all mighty energy told me to go back, sending me back with a vehemence and a message to fight for my life and I hesitated in that moment of confusion .... no please not back there. Not back. Not to that crumpled little bit of road kill. Not to go back to the demons who wait there for me. Not for more torture only.... the choice wasn’t mine to be made and when I gasped and heard my lungs fill with air.... my killer turned in shock from the door, his noir skin going ghost pale

I don’t understand, dictionary.... please define it for me....

I am to go north

where I can’t be found

I am told

retreat.... to my cave

Write on my caveman walls. I think I am glade in a way. Only— to be spared for that?

This book of codes left in a blog. Like pages of a note book blown across a subway floor. All scattered at random .... whatever .... to be found? Maybe never. Maybe just my small voice from the dark cave reaches just the right pitch for.... some necessary mind to one day discover ....one day. Maybe long after I am gone

I leave in about a week or so.... by my birthday to start a new hidden life ....just a mutated voice from inside a cave