Disappearing Act

I stand amidst a sea of strangers,
Murmuring to themselves,
I stand among people unlike myself,
Blurred lines, where people once were.

A world unknown, an adventure?
Or merely sadistic torture?

I stand, glancing around,
“Look down, Look down”
Transparency, rapidly approaching,
Fingers, fading to nothingness.

A figment of my mind?
Or merely the truth, most unkind?


The lonely creature.

The light reflects off of its face with a gleaming shimmer that can only be expressed as the released concoction of sunlight and moonlight with the glow of fireflies and the warmth of a candle in a dark room.

Yet there is a darkness in which it hides, peeking its eye out to glance at the world in which it does not belong. To glance at the hopeful surroundings in which it will never belong. To listen to the laughter it will never have. To listen to the subtle hum of people bumbling about, accomplishing tasks that it will never have.

There is no solace in the darkness yet no joy in the light. Alone in the dark. Alone in the light. Alone in the peaceful morning. Alone in the ravaging night. Alone in a crowd. Alone when alone.

It is a lonely creature in a lonely world. It is a lonely creature in a painful world. It is alone but perhaps it is better this way.