I Don't Know Who I Am

[Sunsets over Moonlight]

. . .
 
Twelve years have passed.

Their study desk is full of them, scrap papers of half-baked ideas that they cannot see to throw away.
They will flourish or perish.

 . . .
 

a canary came to my window
its song lovely and true.
i watched it, it watched me.
its feathers gorgeous in day's light.
 
a raven came to my window.
its beck red,
yellow feathers at its talons
underneath the moon's light.
 

i am confident that i am not confident.

i know my bones are weak,

muscles small,

magic thin.

 
i keep looking in the mirror
wondering if the colors are real.
maybe my skin is actually green,
the sun purple,
moon black.
perception; we cannot trust 
what we hear or see. 
 

i wish i made him smile.

from the bottom of my heart 

into the crevices of my soul.

i want to make him proud.

 
there's something i can't remember.
i make up the details and pretend they are true.
stories with characters with feelings i subscribe to them.
is anything i do real?
 

i used to like summer.

i still do.

i cannot help it.

 
i feel like i'm on fire.
it's in my throat-
my skin so red it feels.
i see the muscle
layer by layer
ridding myself of this shell that
hides it so.
 

there's a dead canary outside my window.

one wing stiff and around its body

the other limp and it pieces.

there's a dead canary outside my window.

it's been two days and i cannot 

find the heart to move it.

there's a dead canary outside my window.

is it my fault?

should i have kept the window open?

 
if i had a mother,
would i know how to cook?
if i had a father,
would i expect better?
if i have a sibling,
would i never feel alone?
if i had an uncle,
would i know pampering?
if i had an aunt,
would i hold many secrets?
if i had a family,
what would i be like?
 

she's standing in the corner behind a wire screen.

i cannot see her,

but i know she is.

i feel her eyes, following me.

i cannot close the door, she'll still see me.

at least i think i can see her.

this heat behind my back is nothing.

look forward,

out the door.

 
i cannot get rid of it.
it's always there.
never acting.
strike, if you will.
the anticipate rattles by being.
i cannot move.
 

i see you in fragments.

i cannot miss you.

i cannot mourn you.

but i see you, whoever you once were.

an eternity has passed.
as if i lived and died then came back.
twelve of them,
twelve years.
thousands of days-
i want to remember every hour,
down to the minute,
the second.
every heart beat,
every thought.
i never want to forget.
 

so sweet, 

a terrible treat i return to.

or i am told it's terrible.

every bite melts my insides,

my worries gone as if they never came.

 
the sunsets over moonlight.  ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ