The deafening absence of anything,
Pierces deep within,
As manic considerations of;
What ifs? Why or how?
Rendering logic as useful
As a Rubik’s cube to a toddler,
Choking on my own insecurities,
I wonder, or is it posit?
That the love I seek is in fact projected,
Less transcendental, more Gatsby,
That I am caught inside the picture of a picture
Inside this cagey mind,
Yet believing I am found,
Perhaps this insistent doppelganger,
Constant, inferred dilemma,
Is in fact the reassembly of I and I and I,
Three egos, three ids in search of more,
Hungry and craving,
Though that doesn’t change the abject pain,
In fact it reinforces it,
Felt each time I imagine your smile,
Envision your eyes,
Say your name,
A treasured x that marks the spot,
Where you’ve made a direct hit
At the very core of me,
You strike at the heart of this matter,
My atoms transformed,
By whom I am transfixed.
Are you my Rubik’s cube?
Am I just a toddler?
When what I really want to know,
Is where are you now?