What is this pain slicing through my soul?
Have I been a fool all my life?
I’ve never been whole.
Is anyone whole?
I don’t understand why it hurts now,
After all the years interred.
What purpose is there in somehow
Exhuming what remains?
Nothing about me is useful
When I was youthful
at least I had potential.
Perhaps I spent it all.
There’s some key I’m missing:
Some slipped space between
the teeth of ability and identity
Listing to the side of isolation.
I am starting to think there may just be
some kind of battle again raging
Over who I am to be.
Who am I to be?
Which of these things most resembles me?
so I may forever hold my peace.