I am the lunatic looking for signs of me on the old trail. I left pieces of me at every mile. .. like the pebbles left as signs to find my way back to me. Sometimes I am those pebbles down the trail and other times I am the trail itself.
That part of me is long dead; then I realize it is very much alive. It lives just under the thin layer of my skin. It is there in my eyes, sometimes there caught in the net of those lines on my palm. Sometimes I am those lines on my palm and other times I am the me caught in that web.
I see myself sometimes, just a glimpse of me somewhere in the crowd. I stop and look for me…it’s a routine hide and seek. Sometimes I hide and don’t seek, other times I seek but I am not hidden.
Then I see myself in my eye and say, “When will you realize that I won’t come back?”
I think it will take me one lifetime.