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