Rhodes, Greece.

Medieval back alleys dimming our vision. You speak of historical sieges, of those who fought to the death and the many wondering souls that could be roaming the island. You went on and on about some ancient rant that is of truly no concern to you.
I see the ever expanding fortress surrounding us, the shadows appeared to be growing and gnawing at us for being there so late at night and for truly no good reason (or maybe they were alerting me about the individual).
I did not care for the past. Despite your words, I knew you were just filling in silence. I sensed mistrust toward you. Every time you spoke, it was performative.
I am acutely aware despite exhaustion, of you. I became disappointed at this. Ashamed to be walking next to this man. Next to a lie. It felt like I could see him following a script, failing to act as the authentic self he claimed to be.
I felt the gate closing.
A veiled tear drop necklace cascades across my neck, the well filled up again and we welcome emotion.

You are praised for who you display to be but you roll in the mud with flies over you.
I see a discrepancy.
And then…
You fucked it all up.
You broke the spell and your truest form became evident. I could see you so very clearly. The screeching creature on the other side was but a teenager throwing a fist, believing he is king to shout abuse at whoever believes has wronged him.
You were in the wrong. Each accusation, wrong.
I saw you twice after that, and both times you were a blur to my vision. A shape of a human look a like who was born and raised on Earth who is to fight the long war against the ego like his brethren… and lose to the triumph of addiction.
You missed a flame and I regained freedom.