Down the Rabbit-Hole

is that I still don't know who 'me' is

I wander around, tapping nails against wood,

impatient, thinking

do I really want to do this? do I really want

to be apart

of this world?

I pace the floor, twisting hair around my index finger

mumbling, grumbling

growling at the world

who am I? why am I here? why am I...

-tall-

-curious-

-lost-

-confused-

-unable to discover the core

of me-

In the indigo of early morning, I strip away

my facades, my masks, and face

what is behind it all;

staring back at me in the mirror;

waving, with a Cheshire grin

-a pawn waiting to be moved-

climb through the looking glass and

realize the un-me, along with the real me

along with the everything in-between, but I'm

late, because the problem with me is that

I oversleep.