Before I leave

I have already left

The house is a memory, it seems,

or a dream

in which I am somehow misplaced

This place sinks around me

and I'm slightly off, displaced;

walking in old VCRs,

light bending strangely

in a fake, flickering presence

Before I leave I taste death,

as it is,

cognitively deprived, bent on mirages

and half-dressed hallucinations

I feel like the vague state I'm leaving,

wrapped in distance and otherness