A reflective poem of long, winding, and searching, exploring change, memory and inner weather.
April 9, 2004Early Notebooks
So much to say in this long, winding time,
searching for words, for something sublime.
It's easy to be myself, or so they say,
but I find it better to be someone else today.
Open up my hand, let me fall through,
I reach for the ground, but it’s slipping too.
I’m lost in your eyes, where truth collides—
night and day that came and went like tides.
I wore a mask to hide my scars,
a different face beneath the stars.
But here we are, in the quiet of night,
will you see through me, will you hold me tight?
Let me down gently, if you must let go,
I’m just a shadow in the afterglow.
The person I pretend to be is slipping away—
maybe, just maybe, I’ll be myself today.
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