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Dissociated

It is me whose going away but from my perspective, the world is what’s shutting down, gradually like a carnival closing at the end of the night. The spinning rides glowing with electric fire sat quiet and inert as they were dismantled and quietly packed away
Dimming shadows on the wall murmur about me in the past tense. Sometimes I try and speak, but I am inaudible to these living apparitions. Their names slide away with everything else. My memories flicker and blur like degraded film. I arbitrarily mutter the words I hear in these living dreams, and it betrays my thoughts to anyone close enough to understand. It is physically watching time disintegrate. The physical and metaphysical dis-entwine the body, the vessel that sustains what is behind the eyes, the soul if you’d like dissolves in the still and frigid. Experience itself is destroyed along with me. What I am reliving will soon never of happened to anyone.

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