I slip between knowing
and not knowing
consciously, unconsciously
wanting, and not wanting to know.

I break my thoughts
in order to reach my thoughts,
but all I find is white-
all I’m able to find is snow.

Bleached is my head,
and my memories hold nothing
that for me hold any chance
of holding any meaning.

I slip and I fall, and I slip and I fall
and all I can find besides me
is me! Another me, three, eleven, twenty me;
And another, another me.

Broken, I try to get back
but I always end up in that place
where three of me talk, stand,
where three of me pretend to be me.

But, there I find
in a place I don’t recognize
between so many me-s,
a person that looks like me!

Alone, in a dark corner
he breaths like me,
stares, and has every feature
that should possess someone like me.

But, that is not me!
That’s just the half part of an half me
and in a room filled with so many me-s
I realise; I am none of them!
(yet, every single one of them has something that makes someone like me – me.)


One thought on “Connected.

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