The further I trudge through this journey,
this trip to the center of me,
the less I recognize the voice that slides from my lips.
These hands are merely extensions,
a way for me to clutch this word and all I've known,
grappling for a lifeline to hold me steady.
The signs these eyes perceive -
the pain they have held,
the fear they have tried to ignore -
they're simply reading a book that
I've written,
yet
I don't know the ending.