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Mar 2018
The brown grass crunches beneath my feet.
There is death here. Nothing else.
A river of dust pours across the bank.
The air smells deeply of must.
I take a seat and breathe deeply.
The apparitions dance before my eyes.
A familiar voice calls out;
"You've been here before."
I nod in understanding.
This place was, is, my home.
I reach down to the dry soil, now shifting like sand in the wake of a great tsunami.
The dirt speaks. "When you were young,
you became the heir to our fortune.
Take what's yours."
I close my eyes.

My fingers, hands, arms, evaporate into cobwebs.
My toes, feet, legs, dissolve into thin air.
One moment, I was whole, and now,
You couldn't tell I was ever there.
found this one in my notebook
Written by
Sun Drop  Here
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