Jan 6
I'm a stranger in my own head,
A sojourner embodied.
As I lie here on my old bed,
Impressions flashing oddly.
I'm a stranger to my own needs,
my old provisions moldy.
I'm lost, can hardly proceed,
But must continue boldly.
A sojourner embodied.
As I lie here on my old bed,
Impressions flashing oddly.
I'm a stranger to my own needs,
my old provisions moldy.
I'm lost, can hardly proceed,
But must continue boldly.
I've been wrestling with the apparent and intimidating reality that I'm plural in some way.
