Dark Traveler

Days like these I wonder if I am living. It is like watching the wind blow the leaves as they pass my window. The sound of them echo while falling. Am I just the echo in a space of oxygen? Do I leave echoes as I pass on by?

Thunder forms when my mouth opens. Days of chaos disturb my peace. I see the birds fly above my head and wonder, "Do they sense my disaster?"

In the middle of a complex space, the crickets call my name. The wasps try to land on my fear. What is happening?

Time no longer exists. The sun's shade never changed. Then I wondered, "Am I really here or is my mind dissociating?" My body is not moving yet I am everywhere.

S. L. Cline