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Untitled
Not too long ago, when I awoke,
I was I.
My thoughts,
I, me, myself.
What, I. Where, I.
My world was precise,
For I was at the center.
Then gravity shifted,
And threw me off my throne.
Downwards I fell,
Violently.
Spiraling towards who knew where.
Stripped along the way.
Wherever it is I landed,
In that overwhelmingly vivid bottom,
I was bare,
There.
And no longer was I, I.
Now when your eyes water, tears streak down my cheek.
When you are cold, I shiver.
When you are alone, It is me lonely.
You cut. I bleed.
I form words, but it is you to speak.
Where have I gone?
Should I choose to look for I.
Is it back upwards, there.
There, where my throne is.
Higher, there, in the air.
Crown and all.
I look up.
And I see all clouds.
Where I is I and existential.
Up there,
All vain,
And superficial.
I cling.
No, I will not go there.
There, where I is I,
I is too solitary.
I want to remain here,
Bare.
Where there is WE and US.
Where I can say YOU.
You.
I could not look elsewhere.
Nowhere for this.
Not you.
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