cold. quiet. gray.
i can't –
movethinkbreathe;
breathe!

gasp for air
face in the dirt
have I imagined –
cold. quiet. gray.

i look up
i smell –
life and death
mingled, twisting, merging.

cold. quiet. gray.
fog, dirt, ground;
I stand up
go to the edge

dirt drops off
into nothingness.
fog surrounds me
I turn. round & round

a tree stands tall
somehow green, yet
rotting on the
other side.

cold. quiet. gray.
gray – the color
of limbo. not life,
but not death.

turning, I see
a dock. floating
in the fog, senseless,
inanimate.

I sit beneath the tree.
stare at the dock.
I hear silence – the sound
of my own breath.

time passes, innumerable
minutes. I am sick
of fog, of sitting
of waiting.

return to the edge
where the first drops
off into nothingness.
I wonder – do I step off?

I could die.
or live.
anything to escape
this in-between place.

take a deep breath;
my last? step off –
into the
cold. quiet. gray.

black.