Sometimes
I am afraid there are so many
People in this world,
So many crowds to
Walk through
That eventually I might never
Recover the body (and mind) that are
My own.

Some days,
Even when I am alone in the
Pale light of my very own
Thoughts,
I seem to lose myself in the
Vastness.
I seem to lose myself in the
Narrowness.

Do you ever wonder if it is
Possible that a person could get
So lost inside their own self that
No matter how hard the trying
Hands grasp through the
Darkness of the soul,
It could never truly be found again?

It's funny
The places a person will discover himself,
Not in the back of the mind,
Usually,
But in the back of the hand,
In the back of the throat, ending
At the tongue and the
Slightly open lips.

Occasionally
I climb up an ancient wooden staircase that
Ascends into an attic,
And I gather the thoughts and pieces of
Myself I have hidden there.

And, just for a challenge,
I try and assemble the pieces together,
Like a necklace –
The kind of necklace that looks
Interesting enough,
maybe even beautiful,
but is never quite wearable.