3.25.12 (focus on patterns)

Who. am. I?
Shrugging off silence
pressing hands over lips
praying words don't escape before I mold them.
The one staring mostly at the ground.
Sometimes at sky. Taking in forever-ness.

What. am. I?
Bone scraping against bone.
an existence.
an expression of something I know not.
I am a purpose.

When. am. I?
In interludes of days.
Between smile and pain.
I exist when my essence has no name.

Where. am. I?
Or do you care to know?
I'm somewhere between yesterday and this moment.
Halfway between reborn and half dead.

Why. am. I?
The one that never tells.
reaching out into forever-ness
each breath a hymn and hell. 


  1. halfway reborn and half dead...a very introspective poem...the heart is easy to hear in this and its questions...each breathe a hymn and hell is a flourish of a close too..

  2. I like how you formed a pattern with words, using the questions at the beginning of each stanza.