Inner Blankness

Have you ever wondered
if everything you feel
is wrong and a lie?
Do you sometimes realize
that when people talk to you,
you tune them out?
I circle around you,
like an electron,
but you stare ahead;
or perhaps you stare backwards,
and all you see is behind you.
Maybe you�re not even thinking or seeing,
but you simply wait for the ticks
on the clock
to chime their tune.
Perhaps there is a genius
hiding between your unpeeled layers,
but most likely it doesn�t matter.
It doesn�t matter to you what people say,
it doesn�t matter to you what people do,
it doesn�t matter to you to have feelings,
because it doesn�t matter to you to be alive.
You are a one-dimensional square�impossible.
You are the reason why people fear death�absence.
You are really the exact opposite of life, but not death�a hole.
I walk through you, over you, and in you�
but is that possible?
I wonder if you can exist,
since every inner part of you seems missing.
Why do you keep on moving?
Why do you bother to change?
Look at you, and look at me,
and you�ll see what I mean�
you�ll see nothing�not that you would care to look anyway.
Back home!
Songs of Me
...
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