I never knew what I wanted,
beyond feeling relaxed,
but even that seemed at odds
with what nature desired for me.
Nature desired for me
a lot of silence
before causing my head
to swell uncontrollably.
“I love you, I love you,
I love you like you love anyone else,”
was my constant refrain.
My head remained so large
for such a long time,
so big that I constantly
woke to check that it was true.
But it wasn’t.
In that moment, I understood
that the truth was everywhere
and to see it required
no effort whatsoever.
I saw that the truth was true,
and could do nothing to help it.
“I don’t like this feeling
of simple truths,” I told
my mirror when he and I
met for breakfast yesterday,
“it’s not really my thing.”
“The feeling I’ve got now,
well, that’s my feeling,”
I told him. “It’s a true feeling
of feelings of correct ideas
“of true feelings
in a true world
that has feelings of
truth in the world.”
“Your mother told us that you wanted
to be a singer,” my mirror said.
“And a singer must always know
the true feeling of feelings.”
I raised my head in an attempt
to be kind and replied,
“I think I’ll have
a better time
with true feelings
if I am by myself.”
“But listen,
(and this is what it was)
it was that I didn’t know,
I didn’t know the feeling,”
“It felt like feeling
like everything was possible.
Like some things were
about to sort of happen.”
And some things did.
I made a move.
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