Calling

Sometimes you go to the wrong place but the right way comes and finds you
It might make you trip over it or bump into it, or it might approach you when a day is ripped apart by night and ask you to take its hand, to hold it and forget this wrong place, this illusion wherein you stand.
I think of the mess in my mind, the mess of life, and remember someone who walked through it all to stand beside me and help sort through the chaos
She made the days and nights worthwhile and the mornings worth walking up to, yet she left as suddenly as she came, sending the walls crashing down again, stronger than ever
I remember those brick walls
There are some moments when you can only stand and stare, watching the world forget you as you remove yourself from it- when you overcome its problems and cease to exist as the person you were before
It may call your name but you're already gone
You hear nothing. You see nothing.
You've gone somewhere else, you've left to find a different definition of yourself in a place wherein nothing else can touch you, nothing else can swing in on your thoughts
Its just yourself, flat against the charcoal sky for the briefest of moments
Then all of a sudden you're flat on the earth again, and once again the world doesn't recognise you.
You're name is what it always was, you look and sound like you always did, but you're not the same
So when that city begins to call your name again, it's voice only manages to scrape the edges.