Blank.
The pen in my hand.
I have written
one letter.
I.
What is I?
What am I?
Not who...
but what.
Of all the letters
why "I"?
why not "a"?
or "e"?
It's a thinly veiled
self-exploration
what am I really?
define "I".
the words don't come.
so am I wordless?
silent?
I am not silent.
i will ask questions. i will know, someday. i will find "I"
but over the pounding music
and the yells and singing
of a world that doesn't question
their blessing and curses
my curiousity
remains unheard.
undefined.














Comments
I must be a delusional nutter too, because I can relate to this
WHY AM I NOT WATCHING YOU.
--
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
READ SECOND CHANCES, RAWWWWWWR?
--
Resident Flying Ocelot Clarinetist, Young Fogey, Thesaurus Thrower, Chainsaw Demigoddess, and Deity Ex Machina. But you knew THAT.
I am many things. All of them hypoallergenic.
OKAY WHAT'S IT ABOUT?
--
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
IT'S ABOUT THIS GUY AND HE'S CALLED SIANZE AND ITS ALL VERY COMPLICATED SO JUST READ IT, OKAY?
--
Resident Flying Ocelot Clarinetist, Young Fogey, Thesaurus Thrower, Chainsaw Demigoddess, and Deity Ex Machina. But you knew THAT.
I am many things. All of them hypoallergenic.
--
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
--
Resident Flying Ocelot Clarinetist, Young Fogey, Thesaurus Thrower, Chainsaw Demigoddess, and Deity Ex Machina. But you knew THAT.
I am many things. All of them hypoallergenic.
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