Poem -

HOW

HOW

How does one perceive what they don’t know?
How do we come to know what we take for granted?

I don’t pretend to understand it all, I know I don’t.
I wish I could see everything all laid out. Maybe then I would gain some clarity.

It’s so hard to see through the fog. 
I wish it would clear but it’s so persistent.

Obscurity. I’m left in obscurity.
Unable to translate my social interactions, I leave the scene.

I escape to what remains of a lonely existence.
But it’s not all doomed. There is comfort in solidarity.

I find it hard to connect at times. It’s like some of the equipment isn’t there.
The cords have been frayed and burnt at the ends. Dismantled from their sockets

Like I was. Dismantled. Pulled apart by aching thoughts and yearning feelings of wanting to be understood by those least and most similar simultaneously.

I feel for those who know their worth and their direction yet I long to be them.
I crave the intimacy of a close-knit identity.

I know sometimes I have it, or that it at least appears that way.
I promise you sometimes I don’t.

I wish I held all the answer to your questions.
I wish I knew what would happen next.

There’s a child within me that catches people’s identities then makes them hers.
I wish I could just know for sure, who I am supposed to be.

Uncertain. Maybe, maybe that’s just who I’m supposed to be.
I don’t even know how to be her. Tell me, with certainty, tell me…how to be.
 

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author
Gerard McGowan

lately I'm not feeling like myself, when I look into my eyes I see someone else, I hardly recognise this face I'm in, when I stare into to my I eyes I see no one there, lately I'm not feeling like myself

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