Where Was I Going

I looked high up

and saw a sky,

maybe a marking

but it was blue, and grey

possibly clouds

or not

or whatnot

filled with scribbled letters

and soft rice

that looked like an eye

but it really was the sun

gold and yellow

staring right down on me

blinding me

in a forest of fresh bamboo

green bamboo in every direction

wild and tall bamboo

with a blank map

in front of me

and one day

I’ll wake up

not from the sun,

but from the moon

because who knows

trees like to lose their leaves

anyway,

and its not like a red banner

hangs behind me

but in front

like blocks of concrete

soft like rice, wrapped in paper

just in time to finish

a warm meal

that was obviously cold

but warm at heart

and now I am alone

but never alone

walking down a street

of people looking down on me

arms resting outside

their confused windows

and the world tells me

no, it shouts

and whispers

who I am

or who I should be

even though

I’m none of those things

I’m me

me

the undefinable definable

and definable undefinable

and though I chew on bamboo

I don’t care

because it’s going to rain soon

and I could use the time

to face my fears

or

whatever you call it

no one likes rain in the cold

but I do

when I’m not listening

to the world

or the map

or me.

 

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