Nameless
- Ashley Mazza
- Feb 24, 2022
- 1 min read
Published | Sincerely Magazine 2018
I am not my name.
Nor the color of my hair,
My eyes,
These lies that hide,
Within my eyes.
What do you see when you look at me?
I am not this body,
These hands, these feet, that nose,
Nor my eyes,
Look at me,
What do you see...
In these dark crevices,
That hazel-blue wonder,
Those specs,
I am none of these.
I am simply me.
My ideas,
My thoughts,
My voice? Perhaps.
My heart?
Depends...
Not this flesh,
Not this boney essence.
My breath,
My touch,
That taste,
Of what?
A kiss?
The sand?
Freedom?
No, none of these
I am me.
These racing thoughts,
These ideas,
These radical temporaries,
Contemporaries? Perhaps.
But I, I am none of these.
Not this hair,
Not these lips,
Not these arms,
But the eyes...
What do you see in these,
These... eyes?
Those lies?
Those cries?
Those screaming truths?
Or a smile?
A laugh?
The soft innocence,
A child? Perhaps.
An adult? Maybe,
But those eyes, those lies
I am none of this.
I am none.
No.
No one.
I am nothing but these,
These thoughts,
These ideas,
These senses that you feel.
Think! Just... think.
Breathe... just breathe.
And imagine,
Imagine me.
Imagine you.
Imagine.
For I am none of these things.
Neither are you.
Neither are we.
All of us!
We are nothing.
Nothing but a breath,
And a breath is all we need.
I, I am simply me
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