have I become
the the person life
could not compare
to anyone

or am I in
my solitude
the lonely ghost
of everything

I will not blame
the maps I see
for I have drawn
them all the same

there is no sense
to what I've done
and where I go
is but pretense

for what is truth
when facts exist
a bold design
that leads to you

I want to walk
the other way
but both my feet
have turned to chalk

and what I write
is right and wrong
the whitest black
the blackest white

cannot discern
which way is up
I'm out of here
a lesson learned

descending more
than I can take
to sleep it off
or stay awake