If Not Here, Then Where?

I am sitting at a long table, my friends on all sides. They are happy and laughing and working and talking. I am not here with them. I am not with myself. I am in the marrow of the bones of my skull, I am floating in the carbon monoxide that is in the air in front of my mouth.

They are moving forwards and I am standing still until I can run to catch up. I am out pacing them, or falling behind. I do not remember the last time I had consistent energy. I do not know if there was ever a time I was on the same page, but I know at least we are reading the same book. I can hear their voices when the light is gone from the path, and I know that they follow or are ahead.

I am not here with them – but I am not gone, or far either.

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Edgar Allan Foe

mostly poet / witch / do-er of arts and assorted others / friend of coffee Leo Sun / Cancer Rising / Aquarius Moon

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