Darkness returns with a foreign identity.

A long forgotten puzzle no longer being held together by memories,

slowly steals the image of the world.

I listen,

waiting for the signs of life around me,

the soft buzzing of radio static plays far off

signaling the departure of what we used to know.

The memories locked awy

now rampantly fade.

A first step,

A first word,

A first bite of an apple,

the same apple you had to climb higher than you ever had before to reach

the same apple that dripped down your chin as you inhaled your first bite

now nothing but a buzz of something you think you should remember.

The scent of your mother's homemade stew used to burn through your memory

forever etched into your nose

now is only an aching.

I was told hearing is always the first to go,

but if I cannot hear you, does that mean I cannot hear myself?

Does that mean the voice in my head that calls out is not there?

I hear the voice loud and clear, but soon as it departs,

I feel myself following after it

as if lured by a trance.

Vanishing into a void following the memories that have long fled,

I ask myself,

Am I still here?

Or am I there?