Some sort of dying

I tried dying once
But was woken from my sleep
The quiet and the stillness
closer to oblivion

My bones emerged from hiding
my eyes lost will for sight
and scars criss-crossed my skin
a road map of bad memories

I felt my self fading
to some solitary place
where the shimmer in the dusty air
conveyed no scent of you

And even there I fumbled
some creature, out of place
a mess of complications
a worried, manic mind

You were neather there no here
no heaven and no hell
just some lasting thread of memory
that I feel fraying with the years

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