me, me, me, me, me

No one was there to help—no one cared?
No, more selfish than that:
better stay out of people's lives—
stay out of mine.

But—then another nears.
That other helps the other
without needing to be called. It is aware.
It is and has been
but it wasn’t was.

Just don't know what it's like unless you know what it’s like—
don't feel sometimes if it can’t be imagined, or choose not to be conscious.

There are moments looked the other way.
Don't understand, or refuse to understand—
from something distant of others choose to walk away.
do not witness it—do not think on it, do not notice it. Never was.

But it is.

Don't see suffering,
don't have to be a part of it; in turn,
don't suffer?

Ignorance is not bliss;
ignorance is no existence—

no communication between, no desire for,
the other. No other? No self.

Unspoken, it's in the air—suffocating.
Don't see unlike ourselves; in not seeing, in choosing
not to see, are you covered?—out of sight and out of mind and out of—

what a disgusting word: us. Is no US.
Never allowed to be, outside of being—
it’s true. How many times it’s heard Ok to be different?
I am what I could only be: I am.

You couldn’t know. There is no us.
There is only me, me, me, me, me from
you and you and you and you and me.

It is. For example,

On my goddamn bed
staring at the ceiling
looking for images, or messages—
I could be doing something
rather than in limbo between what I aren’t
and what I perceive of my comparisons, leading me to
miss-understand you.

Such dangerous avenues to be walking all alone; and yes,
it hurt when I saw how selfish I am.
—the spirit being easy to corrupt
when I placed myself on trial, in odds.

Something about being naked, heavy
in my musings. Feels good to have resolve,
something as small as
put on a shirt and some pants and go out there right now.

If I’m not, I must.
If I aren’t, I should.
If I can’t, I’m not.
If I’m not, I must or—

it’ll be the same shit it always was.