Gone

I know that there are people around me—

I can feel their presence and their touch.

I can hear their words and their laughter.

I can see their eyes looking at me intently.

I can smell their perfume and deodorant.

But

I can feel it creeping up on me again.

I feel myself slipping into oblivion.

My body is physically present,

but my brain is elsewhere.

I’m a prisoner to myself.

Everyone wonders

where I went;

all I know

is I am

gone.