A journey, a trek,
a trip down a long and lonely road
that led me to butterfly kisses
in a reign of dementia,
settling silently upon my mind,

incognito.

My muse lost in the fall
somewhere between a bed of lilacs
in shades of purple and turquoise blue,
and the elaborations of a tormented soul
battling reflections of his past.

Nothing more than a silhouette of time rendered reality

This is what I have lapsed into,
where I have gone,
why you have not seen me.
Though I stood beside you,
This is where I hid, in this nothingness.

Not who I am, but where I have become.