Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Jane Doe Jul 2018
I awoke to myself,
No one.
Nothing more than howling smoke,
Tiptoeing through the silence of night.
I had dissipated,
A mere observer,
An echo of things former,
Yet no more.
The grace of illumination,
Of substance,
Was more than I could afford,
Greater than my waning motivation would allow.
Truth be told,
It too had dissipated,
Into the cold night,
The dead air.
I awoke to myself,
Nowhere.

— The End —