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.