I am me. I am who I have become. Who have I become? Have I become at all? Was I ever born? I came to exist. I know I exist, somewhere between the real and the painless. It's like drifting into sleep, I know there is a point when the transition happens, but to pinpoint it is to rend in twain all logic. The sky watches over me, and I walk beneath as another brick in the wall. Another number. I hope, a number that no-one recognises. A number that is rarely seen. A number that is cherished by some, amired by lots, and criticised by most.
Half the world lives,
Half the world makes,
Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
...
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
And this strange tree could not agree,
That if this tree could ever see,
A stranger tree it sure would be.
...
Hello, you, who looks like me,
Will you tell me what you see?
Answer, please, my spoken plea,
I wish to see my mind’s debris.
...
O’ wicked witch, a secret death,
Your local gypsy legend reeks,
Curse us all in rotten breath,
The light of the world coming down.
...
Dead. The Winter silence amplified by
Muted objections from the misty ghosts
Which prowled the murky streets like a cheerless
Ariel. Stark murmurs of a twisting
...