I'm not.
I exist. I breathe. I be.
But I've been asking myself: Where's ?
I've been living in a space.
A blank spatial cube,
Not even the Rubik's cube.
Something that doesn't even turn the onlooker's face.
My life is mirrored in thousands,
My thoughts resonant with many.
We submerge till our echoes climb to a shrill crescendo,
And bring about an earthquake of discontent on our lands.
Each of us is like a different looking another,
Ah! Look what makes us unique.
We all strive to be different.
And not that deep down, we're all burdened and meek.
I'd try something new, but soon there'd be others,
Like vultures to dead bodies.
I do dream to fly,
Then again I ask myself: How do?
It's not suffocation, it's a mere nothingness,
It's a place of routine,
Something that has seeped within my bones;
This is more paralyzing than fear.
I will break it. I will consciously try.
I just have to ask myself: when will?
My questions are incomplete,
Pregnant with words I've forgotten.
I do remember what I have to do,
I will break.
