the elephant
the thing that occupied my body
that used to amuse people
is gone,
stepped out briefly for a breath of fresh air
and never came back,
and everyone around me misses it.
without it, all that’s left
are dark shapes overlapping into
a human-like silhouette,
unable to turn the light back on.
my hands move through everything
i try to hold,
like a flameless taffy-pull of smoke
clouding the room just long enough
to tint the air a sickly amber
before i dissipate into it,
reaching the corners
where i’ll watch my life
with the same detached vantage point
of a god,
not even important enough
to earn its disappointment.
everyone in the room has been
really polite about this.
despite the noxious, mutating cloud i've become,
they’re still smiling at me,
i must be shaped like an elephant right now,
momentarily,
the last amusing thing i’ll ever manage to do.