the shoulder dweller

Lately, I've been seeing things that might be there, hearing, feeling. I've felt something on my shoulder. I'm not sure of his name or face, but he's a "he". He keeps me company. He whispers things I can't hear to me. I try to listen anyway.
He holds me. He is familiar, but distant, like a smell that brings back an ancient memory for just a split-second before the feeling is gone. When I try to imagine him, he is formless. He feels like tiny pressures on my shoulder and on my neck. He sounds like a tingling in my head. He sometimes feels like a snake, sometimes a centipede, sometimes just a presence. He's not always there, I think, but he always comes back if he leaves.
He knows I can't hear him. He knows I can't see him. He knows I want to, try to. He tries to help, I think. He tries to let me hear him. He tries to let me listen to what he has to say. Sometimes, a message gets through. Sometimes, a word, or more of a feeling, will make its way through all the barriers, all the misunderstandings. Sometimes, I can hear him.
I can almost see him.
I can almost hear him.
I can feel him.