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Oct 2020
I am starting to see the cracks in I.
The voice that I could not differentiate from.
The part of me I mistakenly identified as I.
Whispers its grievances like ghost rolling upon 3am.
As if my mind is its corridor to haunt.
Oh, no longer I, the one that associates itself with me.
The ego is the one who pronounces I.
Hangs off your existence like Corporate America preys on the poor.
The part of you and I that questions am.
The one voice that separates us.
Same as the fake border that pronounces mine, yours, and theirs.
Ownership that never fails to remind you.
It’s the voice that degrades you.
Same as the men who teach boys that boundaries only exist for state lines.
It’s the part of I, that am bears in the burdening of pretending…
Pretending that the notion that you must be this or you must be that.
The promises we keep to I instead of am.
These are the same silent alliances our egos share.
Parts of us that accepts submissively.
That trades profit for war.
That values trees as paper.
That mistakes water as a product not a right.
That part of I that tells you that the land belongs to I…
But you see, you are not I, you are not the ego.
The part of am reminds you that reminds that you –
That you belong to the land, but the land does not belong to you…

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