amnesia day

after a few moments
of holding of breath
it stopped;
it was only the sound of wind
but the fact that the silence ended
was reassuring,
what wasn’t the same was the air.
cool. cold.
and everything in the room was exactly
how he left it.
that was a very
unusual thing,
breaking open his mind,
he knew,
somehow,
that it reeked of unusual circumstances.
on his shoes,
the socks he had worn the day before.
a hesitation made
him look at the ground twice
for a moment before
he put his feet down on the floor.
gut instinct,
something
he knew was trained into him,
made him look under the bed when he stood.
there was one aspirin
under the bed.
nothing else.
what was going on here?
who am I?

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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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