I want to be -

What?

That is the problem. I simply want to be.

To clarify -
I wish to be me.

See, me - it is  not the easiest thing to free. Eighteen years of uncertainty, of broken puzzle-piece searches through fear, love, art, what have you -

All for the chance to grasp even an inkling of identity;

Of me.

But, look -
I did it.
A start, anyhow. I saw my shadow, my outline,
and without hesitation
It was seized.
I gripped it tight
Refusing to let something sought so long
Slip through my fingers like water would fall.

Yet I lack time
I lack space
I lack ability,
Opportunity,
To break free of old restraints

Me - it is just infuriatingly

Beyond reach

I see you, me. I know what I need.

Yet I lay here imprisoned in a world worn by greed
Worked like a slave til eyes droop with fatigue

All I need is a door
A little room to escape

Room to breathe; breathing space

To find residence elsewhere;
Grab "me" on the way.

(Then, maybe then - I'll find peace. Some day.)

In the rain
Outside in the rain  
Staring through
the wooden shutters
In almost darkness
Brown wooden shutters
With dust entrusted to them
And he see's the man
see's the man with the dog
The man with the dog staring
With sunken eyes
He watches
He spies
With dead sunken eyes
Sallow eyes
Glassy eyes
And then a grand fear is felt
All over the body  
The man with the dog and the sunken eyes
He listens
He see's through dust entrusted shutters
Looks at him outside
In the rain
In the dark
And suddenly a great feeling of hopelessness comes upon the earth
And does not seem to leave
He does not go away
And the rain pours
And the man with the dog and the sunken eyes stares
And he won't go  
He won't leave him alone
He smiles
And watches
And won't go away
Won't go away
Won't leave
And In the dark
Nothing changes  
the rain does pour
And the man does stare
And he does watch
And life does go on
And nothing changes

419

We grow accustomed to the Dark—
When light is put away—
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye—

A Moment—We uncertain step
For newness of the night—
Then—fit our Vision to the Dark—
And meet the Road—*****—

And so of larger—Darkness—
Those Evenings of the Brain—
When not a Moon disclose a sign—
Or Star—come out—within—

The Bravest—***** a little—
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead—
But as they learn to see—

Either the Darkness alters—
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight—
And Life steps almost straight.

There is a boy over there

            No more than seventeen

No less than insane

(To some, that is. Some who can't see.)

This boy has a friend
(And yet no friends at all)

Who wears a great big mask at night
And makes Donnie feel small

Two universes,
One fate that can't be fought

versus a lonely boy,
a lonely girl,
and all of their genius thoughts