That Thing Inside My Cerebellum

There's a man on the door,
who says he's no more
and I just look
at the man and no more.

He wants to come in
while I take it all in;
I ask myself,
"What, is he a djinn?"

Stepping in quietly through
the open door into view
of the others, but
they feel nothing new.

He sits on the first stair
with a void for a stare
and they seem
unperturbed, not a dare.

He walks up to me and
puts something in my hand;
it glistens lying
in the palm of my hand.

I try to ask him why,
but I do cease to try
and he leaves;
I say a silent goodbye

I take the object in my
hand, and say goodbye;
the others vanish
and I don't know when
but I die.