becoming

half empty, still too crowded
subway car.

I sit separate yet with others,
not by myself.

swaying with the rhythm of
mass transit.

I think out loud
and say inside my head:

when there is nothing left
but the words

then – and then – I will be what I am,
stripped down essence

but now I sit alone not by myself
burdened by what I cannot shed,

working toward losing
everything and

swaying to the rhythm of
mass transit.

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2 thoughts on “becoming

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