Exudations of a schizoid mind

You were standing right behind me, I could even see a vague shadow of your silhouette, I could definitely feel you breath, warm and moist. You were standing right behind me, but you did not say a word. You just watched me burning and suffering and you did not say a word. You were anxious, I could feel the flow of sentiments moving through your body. I could smell your disbelief, a thick fume covering you. But nothing, no movement, no word. An anxious observation. You were standing so close, I could feel your body against my body at times, the thin air between us. I screamed and you were there, I bent over, you did not move, I called your name, Did you hear me? Did you hear my voice in your anxious moments? You were paralyzed by them, by their looks, by each movement, by each breath. You were just behind me, when my voice was silenced, when silence drew me,all of me, the last thing I felt was the warm moist of your breath on my skin. All along I knew this would happen, all along you couldn’t believe the end, you were always dissociated from reality, you had always this problem with accepting the reality of this harsh, brutal existence, you were always that little optimistic creature full of dreams and hopes. You were standing right behind me, you could smell iron, nothing was more real than my blood smelling like iron evaporating into the space, and still…
When I fell down, you were there, face to face with them, you were face to face with your illusions, voiceless, motionless, standing there alone, amid all the colorful realities.