i wish you could’ve seen it
the way we love in my dreams-
we were moving
cohesively pulsating
like the cells that course
throughout our veins
and keep us breathing
and alive.

i wish you understood that.
i wish you would have asked me
before leaving that night.

Listening to a song you heard a million times before,
in a past not distant from your present,
but finding a spiritual connection with the lyrics,
the instruments, the singer's voice--
you find newfound meaning.

Then you realise, it is not the song,
which has changed,
but you.

This,..  My way,  my nature
Birthed to this,
My lineage,  this legacy,
Given,..  Named,..  
Long ago,  our lines given
Titles, trades,  qualities,  dispositions
Earned, bestowed, deserved,  taken
It was a day of beginnings,  
A day of firsts, lines created
It was a day of words
It says the day of naming.
Only are names given but that once
After that day,  one is born into
The name,  the legacy then passed
From generation to the next,
fathers and sons
My line: Fehlmann...
A man missing, or lost and searching?
Hiding?  Different?  A little off?  
Perhaps indefinable?  
Unreachable, exploring,  so misleading,
Misunderstood,  built different,  special
Untouchable, wandering,  leading?  
I can't help but wonder,  why?  Those words?
Was my distant relative present?
What a puzzling choice of words to be given?  Or,  earned?

Off                   comes my slip, socks, sanity and an echo
Goes                 up my spine.  
The                   men
Film                  my sinking heart  
And                  dive into the  
Filth                  plastered against my mind without a thought  
Of                      what moments define me.
That                  girl who used to wear a  
Shirt                  embroidered with flowers and had a mother  
Making             her a meal with love is now working the  
Room               with what's left of her.
For                    -ward motion depicts nothing
More                 than bones and memories never cherished.

You told me to descibe myself using metaphors.
I thought about this for a long time.
I am.... what? What am I?
I could go for the classic "plastic bag in the wind" but that even made me gag
I was just about to tell you some faux banality to sate your mind when it hit me

I am a metaphor.

I am a metaphor, never quite literally meaning what I say.