Myself.

I have seen myself in the world around me.

In the people, things and places I love.

In the people, things and places I hate.

In the people, things and places I care only slightly for.

I block myself from myself when I am afraid.

When love is too much, too broken or not enough.

When dreams meet reality and reality must win, for the greater good.

I block myself from myself because I don’t know who I am.

And I think I should.

Because others do.

I should, too.

And so it is I unzip my skin and let it all fall down around me.

The aching of lost dreams.

The stinging hope for dreams to come.

They eat my soul, I hold them close.

I am meeting myself.

I am losing (and missing) myself at the very same time.