To Myself

To who else but myself
Have I been writing
My whole life
Entertaining
Myself alone

Who’s here
Right now
Who was here
Yesterday
A year ago
Ten years ago
Who, twenty years ago
Was writing to whom

What’s time
What’s me
Writing
Thinking
A question
A lie
Absolute truth

Who’s who
Evolved apes
Fallen angels
Creating
Strings of words
One after another

Is that not time —
Thing after thing
Where would time drift
If nothing was
Where would I be
Unseen
If all vanished

Who lives
Who dies
Who fades
What’s another —
A body
An image
In my mind
What’s my mind —
Here
Or there
Where all unfolds

Is there anyone —
But me
No one confirms
Another exists
The one —
Stands alone

Sounds of others
Rise in me
Are they here
Or there
Where’s here
What’s news
Something happened
But where

Gibberish —
Words from within
Appearing there
Coming from here
How can I know

Who am I talking to —
A memory
An image in me
That body —
Underground
Somewhere else
Am I speaking to her
Or to me

Do these people
Dwell in me
Why must they
Do I live in them
Where do we live

A garden
Where we bloom —
The sky
The universe
Where’s there
Where’s here

Imagined audience
I write to them
Editing
Cleaning
Smiles and propriety
To myself —
No bullshit

Whose words fill
Those books
Me
Or the dead
My name
A virus
Hollow —
Full of nothing

What’s there to say
Not much
To whom
A coffin —
Does it know

Is this my deathbed —
Everyone walking
In their graves
Rising
Falling back
This world
A graveyard
Of zombies

Who owns more
Than me
Stars and oceans —
I craft in a stroke
With another
I erase
Galaxies
The universe entire

Who stands greater —
Is death above
I devour it
As it devours me
Leaving neither
Life nor death
Earth nor skies

That’s source —
Unmanifest
Neither me
Nor those
Neither birth
Nor death