Arguing with myself

I’m sitting here, thinking.
It’s like waiting here, pacing
through the thoughts in my mind.

My thoughts—
they echo.
Echo the fates.
The trifold deities hooded in white.
Life’s thread is spun, measured, and snipped
by three phantom pairs of hands
to weave the words of my script.

I’m flying through stratosphere.
I can’t see the ground,
and there’s a cloud behind me.
I broke barriers
of sound.

Arguing with myself.
But it’s hard to win a loss
and it’s hard to lose a win.
All this has got me
Lost in I.
Lost in you.
Man, I felt so dumb.
Thought I had found myself, following your thread,
but they were misleading.
Led me straight to—
and emotions so defiant.
Lust in I,
lust in you.
Thought I could love myself and you,
but my request was expunged.

And as I sit here thinking,
“When is this going to end?”
I hear the taunting laughter of the phantom
pairs of hands.
I end up
doing it again.

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