Sounds Of Memory by Prospero2013

He has a question in his eyes.
"It's difficult to compare.
We are one person, not many."
He laughs, louder and stronger
and louder.

But nobody really hears this
although you might in some fashion.
It's an eerie sound
the whistle of a train
the singing of cicadas.

"What did you do to make
these things seem real?"
His voice like
the whispers of dead friends
the weird sounds of memory.

"What was it?"
There's a chattering at my back.

"At some point
you became identified with them."
I am them as those things are me.
Even the huge dogs
even the fifth head.

"They can't be without you
you can't be without them."
The laughter, louder and louder
until

"Actually you aren't anything.
It's all a dream."

Difficult to compare.