Renting Myself

Have I fallen apart?
I wonder alone, out loud
When I see a reflection
Looking tough
(Not tough
Like a hero,
But tough,
Like overcooked meat.)
Too much heat
Too many thoughts
Too many people

(I haven’t checked in
With myself)
I am a squatter
In my own life
Remaining without rent
Without focus
(Without myself)

Me but hardly me

/michal

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Uncovering / Recovering

I have filled myself with others’ stories.
Stories to avoid my own.
Stories to carry,
to ponder,
to listen to on repeat in my own head late at night,
when I am forgetting to be writing my own.

Stories of pain
and difficulty and happiness and
memories, felt or lost or forgotten
until they are told out loud.

I have been overflowing with other selves
I absorbed, mistakenly
trying to fit them into my own concave interior,
a container to be filled and shipped
somewhere far. I yearn to lock
and steal these stories inside of me,
take them to a new place where I might bury them,
and as I dig their grave, in the soil I find
myself, waiting to be lifted out and taken home.

/michal

Tell Me A Story

I will tell you an unfinished story. (Aren’t all stories unfinished, if they are still being told?). The story is one that is common to us all. It is about the search for your true, genuine self, if such a thing even exists.

The search begins with realizing that you even need to search for yourself. It begins with trying to define yourself to yourself and to other people, and noticing a difficulty in finding the right words.

The next stage is understanding the value in having the freedom to define yourself, accompanied by a fear of tackling such a feat.

Then you need to commit to try.

After this, you continue living your life in search of yourself, always changing, always moving, always learning. Life is a continuous process of reevaluation of yourself and your ideas. Never are you complete. Never are you finished. This story is never finished as long as people have the courage to face their lack of knowledge of themselves. Learning to search for your inner self – rather than actually finding it – is the meaning of life, if there is one at all.

/michal