am i an illusion

the memories of life before fade

the person i was seems to be disappearing and the new form feels

wrong

the skin is too itchy

my wings stretch but catch no wind

i can no longer propel myself into the sky

now when i catch dreams on which to feast they are salted and inedible fragments

starvation

my spine shows now

jutting hip bones and fragile ribs

was i always covered in scales or is this new

iridescent

like the photo negative of a rainbow

only seem to reflect shadow never light

i lay on the floor, arms crossed over my barely moving chest

corpse like christ pose

lay a shroud over my form, my divinity seaps into the carpet

holy grace, hokey old time religion

my blood an ointment for the ills of the day

faded

unable to reach out and find the beat muffled by the clouds of vapor rising from my slowly dissolving skin

a fog

misty moments frozen in the space between here and hell

climbing a greased pole to the stars always an inch out of my grasp

been lost so long now the idea of found has no meaning

let me go into the ether

vanish

this mortality is killing off the sweet parts of my psyche

turning them into pickled remanants

a bottle of wine, plastic baggies of pills and silent reverie

let the transformation run its course

form corpse paint to actually cremated remains

the hiss of finality