simple questions are often the hardest to answer.

"who are you?"

surely I'm more than a name,

but that's all that ever seems to come to mind

as I rack my brain, trying to find

a response that will satisfy

the question.

and of course,

I respond with my name.

unable to determine if I am

anything of substance beyond the moments

in which I remember that I exist.

sometimes I wish

I was the same human being

back in the summer of 2018

halfway across the world

wandering the streets of a city

in a country full of people and languages

I simply did not know.

an adventurer. or an artist-

at least, in the days after.

in the time spent

longing to be that person again

I settled for the liquid removal

of inhibitions just to get close

to what the best moments of my life felt like:

free. completely.

and maybe my name could mean that...

except

they always repeat it back to me incorrectly.

a Crescendo of peace slowly glides along my skin;

a Shower of sorts, warm water with soap that smells

more like May than the cheap Glade I purchased

for the season. Blaspheme, I'd Pummel the store clerk

if my heart didn't Ache every time I bore witness to their

Alizarin spring dress with curves like rivers.

one thing people need to understand is that sleep is a bitch.

she is selfish, and she doesn't quite seem to understand that it takes

two people to make this damn thing work. i mean, only I will be asleep,

but the feeling of sleep wrapping her arms around me makes me feel warm...

three things that keep me up though are the thoughts of dying, reality changing,

and the sheer terror that comes with being alive. stray memories keeping me up until

four in the morning, i must have lost my goddamn mind. scrolling through my phone,

reading old text. i don't know why i saved it, but sometimes i read the last

five words that you sent me: this just isn't working anymore... quiet sighs on a friday night.

some people think there's something strange about staying alone inside

six days and six nights in a row, but i find it comforting. i like the way my bed feels,

especially in the morning when responsibility is just outside and i set my timer for

seven more minutes of sleep, because she loves me in the morning. she loves me most

when i need her the least. she loves to let me play dangerous games with my life at

eight in the morning when i am already thirty minutes late to the office.

fired, they told me. one too many early morning meetings missed. but wasn't it worth the

nine hours we spent tussling all through the night? i don't know...

i just know when the sun goes down, it is sleep that i miss the most.

i don't quite understand what it means to be

h a p p y . . . happy. . .

people say it's pretty wonderful,

the smiles, the laughs

the memories of the time Sarah fell flat on her ass

it was great . . . wasn't it?

wasn't it wonderful. . .

I wonder, whether this bit

of humanity is truly that beautiful.

i yearn to know.

i need to know.

i won't take no

for an answer so

please, for the love of G O D. . .

help me to find that missing piece.

i am quite convinced that this

illusion simply doesn't exist-

plain and simple

there isn't much more to it than that.

and yet i am still here searching. . .

trying to fulfill my desire

of finally understanding

what it means to aspire. . .

what it means to be present

and be

h u m a n. . .