quandary
of looking outside
myself for the answers. No one knows me
better than me. Who else has stayed

with me all this time? Who has delved
in the conflicts of one very cluttered
mind? Who else knows the dreams and the
terrors? Who else knows all my defenses, what I wrestle

with and my projections?
My past is another dimension that I myself
have questioned. The people I meet don’t know
the secrets I keep. Only I hold the key
to the locked doors.