Ask me who I am.

Author's Note: So, this is deemed a "poem" very loosely. I get it's very untraditional--it's free verse/stream-of-consciousness. Looking forward to your thoughts!

Feedback Posts:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8gwuhk/the\_asshole\_in\_the\_attic/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8gyinh/you\_and\_i/

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There are these times where I feel like I can't do any of the things that I want to do. No... that's not right.

There are times where I feel ike there is only one thing that I can focus on, even if it' snot the thing I wan to focus on...

Right now, I can't think of anything until I type it out. That's odd, right? It's odd to not know what I want to say until my finders start to type it. That's not the way that thinking works, is it? Is that the way that thinking works.

Thinking. Thinking. What was I thinking about?

What was I thinking about...

I can't say. I'm not thinking about that right now. Or ever.

Next thought, go to, red balloon. Doesn't make sense? Red. Balloon.

Okay I'm back, we're good. So what now? What do I want to do now? Type, it's all I can do I just type. I don't want to stop but I also don't really have anything to say except,

No. We aren't...

We? Ah yes, the 'we'... Maybe I can write about we. There's that one, and her, and then of course there's me. We all live here. It's good.

We.

Who's this... This isn't me, it's not all of we, it's her. Her. She's my favorite. Her favorite? Who's favorite? We.

The window is... Not them.

Duly noted.

I have leaves that grow through my house and I like the way they tangle over the window. One is longggg. Like very long, I didn't know it'd get that long, but I'm glad.

I look around and there are only things out of place. Nothing fits. But this is how things work. is that life?

Should I edit? I type without looking so there are issues with ya know the keys and my fingers and sometimes a it's not turns intoa it' snot or a into a turns into a intoa... you know what I mean. But do I edit? Or do I leave it be and it's organic and real and genuine and... or is that contrived? Is that real?

Who are we.

Who am I?

The thoughts are based in a false lack of self-awareness... I know who I am. Oh. I know.

I don't actually know what I look like.

Do you ever think about that? About how we really don't actually know what we look like? I don't mean me, we--I mean you and me, we--do YOU think about that?

Who are you?

I don't know you, I'll never know you. Is there a you?

Who are you

Is this real or is this just the challenge of fingers to keys and the sound it's pleasant and the mood it's right and I guess I'm bored but is it real? I like it... I like the way the words come and I don't like the word flow but that's the way my fingers feel, and I like my fingers.

I know someone else who likes my fingers, I know more than someone else, there are elses... but we don't talk about them, they didn't exist.

Why do we do that? And I don't mean me we, I mean her and me we and I don't know why we do that.

It's fear it's a lack of trust it's weakness, it's being worked on.

There aren't things I believe that I don't say but there are so many things I say that I don't believe. I can't help it, the words, I just love the way they feel, they feel...good. The bad words, the bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad words, they feel so... they feel better than the good words because the good words, they are so overdone--we hear them all over and over again. I love you. I love you I love oyu I love oyu I lveoyou Love you I love you. Love.

You.

But who are you? Who am I? I'm we. I'm we and she doesn't know we but I can't help but always be the we I am am and the we we are and the we her and I could be, I'm all of us.

I want someone to read this, someone I know, someone...specific? No. One one. We will read it, not her and me we or you and me we, just me we. We can read it. It's ours. It's all of ours.

So it's yours.

Who... are you?

I just want to know who you are. We want to know. Me, we.

I feel like I need it. and I feel like it's right there. But it's not. You aren't. It's not there.

Ask me who I am.