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Apr 2018
It is not often that I am
awake.
Eyes are open, but the view is aerial.
The mind in autopilot,
the body moves automatically.
A spectator to my own life,
Control eludes me.
Until suddenly,
I have a glimpse.
Consciousness grows.
My hands grasp
At the opportunity, Unwilling to let go.
I plunge into darkness.
Willing to submit to defeat.
The first conscious decision.
And, the last
as my autonomy
gradually
Drifts.
Elisa Holly
Written by
Elisa Holly  DALLAS
(DALLAS)   
91
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