Another day.
Things are OK.
I'm still waiting
For my moment-
Any moment.
The fire
Has dimmed.
Smoke billows
Toward the sky.
I breathe,
But I'm barely even alive.
What's the point of fighting?

The world is invisible.
My brain can't comprehend what we're doing here.
"Fight you idiot!" That's what the voice inside my head yells.
Poe asks, "Can you no longer hear the bells?"
I can't....
It's all a low buzz now:
Cars honking for me to go,
The songs on the radio.

I am mist
Dissipating in the wind,
But it is OK
It's just another day.