recycled poetry

web of lives

my future is so nebulous

hell, i've juggled a million
thoughts of different
choices i could make,
of a thousand possibilities
that are all strung together
around me and woven
into a web

i can see the reality
of the string theory
in front of me, of
millions of alternate
universes formed
according to decisions
i could have made
or didn't

i can see possible outcomes
like solutions to equations
but i don't know which
one i want most

slowly, i'm making decisions i like
and formulating my own
reality, but i know that i'll
always see what could have been
and wish i could live the life
that another "me" is living

i'll still see all these
alternate universes that
will never be tangible,
but always visible
and constantly have
the harsh realization
that i will always be able to see—
to picture, to imagine—
and not touch—
to live, to be, to feel—

that i will never be satisfied
because there will always be
decisions i could have made
decisions i didn't make
and there will always be
a me that is smarter
and wiser than this me

but i suppose that there
will always be a me that
is jealous of this me
for there will always be
a version of myself
who has made
worse decisions

theoretical science is
hard to fathom
sometimes so
now i'm just caught
in this confusing web
of infinite me-s,

infinite lives
and possibilities
infinite actions
i make that may cause
infinite outcomes,

when i should be focused
on who i am now
who i have become now
who i see in the mirror
who i am in this life

but how can i do that
when i don't even know
who i am?

when i can see all of
the people i could be
and i yearn for them?

who is this girl
in this life
in this universe
in this reality?

who is she?

who will she—no—who can she be?

i see this web of lives
and i wish i could
tear it down and
just live freely,
but it's so beautiful
and intricate
and interesting
to look at and—

it's causing me
so much pain—

i don't have
the heart to.