Who Might You Be? Poem by Eleonora Woods

You walk the corridor of feelings as you try to think of what it was you ought to get but you forgot to write down what it was and now you open up the kitchen finding sixty cases of forgotten faces and you know you are just chasing rabbits up the creek of your imagination try to grip the side that's yours you have no hand and you fall thru into a stream of conscious roughing where you see your childhood floating into bits and brothers tearing up who turns to see into a seething mess of mockery, who might you be.
Who might you be.
Your name is Misery and at your service just to guarantee that you won't miss this opportunity to flog yourself for any history that you may feature in.