To lie to yourself...
"Who am I?"
To ask a simply question
With an unsimple answer...
I am many voices,
Infinite by nature,
Solitary by want,
And curious by need.
Yet am I one voice
In a multitude,
Or a deluge of a thousand screams.
The voices speak
To me, inside.
The voices speak
From me, outside.
Which, if one
Am I...
Or perhaps
I am not I,
Rather
We, Them, They, or Us.
The latter thought
Frightens me
Because I want to be
A Me
Not a They
But a He.
Yet I am a cauldron
Of endless gibberish
I understand.
Violet speaks to me,
Violet speaks through me.
The Scarecrow speaks to me,
The Scarecrow speaks through me.
So who is who.
Is it so wrong to wonder?
Will it be so wrong to hate ourselves
When We find there is no
Me?
Or will Hope spring eternally
An answer,
A truth,
Not painful?
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Submission Name: I Am Infinite Voices, But Which Is Me?
