is there a right way to do it?
These days,
I have lost myself:
not in the highs, the news telecasts,
or her eyes.
In a moment.
I am
somewhere in the universe.
I am
every episode of Friends, yesterday’s breakfast burrito,
every 3 a.m. conversation.
I am.
I have shattered myself
into a million tiny pieces,
and it is scary but
liberating.
Tag: anatman
i was myself, once.
like i’ve been before;
a phoenix, fire of
autumn leaves regurgitates
me.
i find my voice in the songs
the river sings,
memory like the currents.
constantly moulting, but
keeping them in a scrapbook–
moments with blank spaces
in between
stitched together to make
a quilt.
i decompose.
sometimes i bloom with the azaleas
in the spring.
anatman: “I hardly know who i am. I think I must have been changed several times… I’m not myself, you see.” // a.s.m
Silenticel 