Literally, when he tried to think about his past,
Details would elude him, blurred memories confused him
He'd tried, and failed, for days to remember.
Something bad had happened. What was it?
He had been walking, when he used to walk
Properly, on legs, like all humans. Human legs.
He could remember that. Walking.
He'd walked that day instead of--what?
Instead of driving, he'd walked. Yes, to save
Energy or money or both. No matter,
He'd thought it best and he was undeterred.
"I walked," he thought, knowing at once
That he finally had a breakthrough.
"I remember! I remember!" He congratulated
Himself on this major breakthrough of memory.
But what after that? What had happened?
I walked. I walked. Something bad happened.
And now I'm here. Where is here?
Not a place I've hever heard about.
He'd lost all track of time, and couldn't tell
How long it'd been since he'd left his body--
The human one--and occupied this one.
This one, he'd never seen, at least not yet.
He hadn't looked down since he'd arrived.
Wherever this was. The vision he now had
Was more an awareness of being
Than one of human sight.
Did he have eyes? Was he himself?
He didn't know. There was no one
There to tell him anything, validate anything.
He was only half certain he even existed.
But there was that: the thoughts.
An awareness of being. Most certainly.
How he'd gotten there, he wasn't sure.
Something about walking, it was a bad day.
But nothing else came to him.
Not his wife, not his children, at least not yet.
Perhaps his awareness was protecting him
From the realization of what he'd left behind.
Self-protection, -preservation, that's it.
His mind was in charge at the moment,
And rightly so. He was in no condition
To take the reigns. If ever.
This guy needed someone to show up,
And he tried to seek out, in the space
He sensed surrounded him, some signs
Of life, anywhere in this new universe.
Whatever form he took, he had no ears.
He'd recognized no sounds since
The day of his arrival. He'd seen no one.
But he still believed that he was not alone.
He could go on, feeling something was coming
For hours on end, and it would be worth it,
Whatever it was that he would discover
In this undiscovered country.
This was definitely a place of no return;
But he knew that, had known it, somehow
All of this time he'd been there.
Things were not going to change soon.
But until then, what was that? Pulling at
The corners of his mind? Was it a memory?
He could almost see human faces coming
Into focus--blurred visages of important people.
But who were they? And why weren't they here?
Why was he alone? Why was there no music?
Music--he remembered! But how? And why?
He'd loved music, he knew that now.
Dancing. He'd met her, a lovely girl,
Now just a blur in his thoughts.
But there was something that had happened
With this girl--but what? Who was she?
He thought he heard a voice somewhere,
The rhythm of sound reminded him of--
Prayer. It wasn't her, though. Not the girl.
But others. Other voices he should have known.
Tired of the awareness, the half-memories,
The trek to the edge of memory, this
Poor boy shut out it all, all senses,
And pled for mercy and peace and quiet.
There was no response.
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