He is the only one who speaks to me. I am the only one who denies him. One broken man with warped minds and a forgotten face. One who does not live around but is alive. One twisted body amongst all who ignore him. From the window, I can see him, but my life says he was never even there.

His eyes are darkness. He sends disturbing thoughts throughout the neighborhood. He stands up and he lays down and bends the ground with his malicious limbs and fights the light with flawed lies and never wary from danger. This is how he survives.

Let him forget the meaning of life, he’d disappear like a gust of wind, with his eyes blurred away. Survive, survive, survive he says when he talks. He thinks.

When I am too fragile and too weak to keep walking, when I am a destroyed thing against the expanding world, then I look to the man. When there is nobody else strutting his direction. One who Survived despite loneliness. One who understands and does not forget to understand. One whose only purpose is to live and die.