icHor nostAlgia | [poetry]

iii. what are we?

[] Confession: is it bad that I want to know what happened to my past self? Is it bad that I want to swallow her whole?

I wanna allow myself to dicipate into° the sun.
Not a clean unraveling or a subtle descendants,
BUT a mess
of riot and color and birth and death
death
death.

What if the moon isn't just reflected° but shrunken as well?
What if it isn't smaller than the earth° or the the sky or the vast amount of nothing
that is something
but nothing to us because we can't experience it?

We are all that we experience,°
aren't we?

All the sights,
All the wonders,
All the terrors.

The honey ocean eyes of strangers° that we engulf are us.

The dandelion that we murder°
peddle by peddle are us.

The pain that we experience within° us,
That drives our hearts and minds to liquid MESH is us.

EVERYTHING IS US SO ARE WE° ANYTHING AT ALL??

ARE WE REALLY MORE THAN THE° EVERYTHING AROUND US?

The influences?
The impulses?

Our thoughts and emotions are° liquids,
Sloshing around in our brains.
Our bodies are grime
And water
And stardust
And celestial fragments of nothings and everythings.

WE ARE EVERYTHING°
AND NOTHING
AT ALL.

OR ARE WE?
ARE WE NOT?

DO WE EVEN MEAN MORE THAN° WHAT WE BREATH AND WHAT WE WALK ON?

🌙