HE WHO INHABITS ME

How odd, to behold myself, sitting here,
And close my eyes, and open them, and glance,
And hear how life crumbles, like a distant, rushing waterfall,
And close my eyes, and open them, and glance!

How very odd, to behold myself sitting here!
To see myself as though a plant that breathes,
And feel inside my chest a caged bird,
And a forceful thrust, pushing thickly through my veins!

How odd to see myself sitting here,
One hand clasping the other,
And touch myself, and smile, and say aloud
My own name, so devoid of meaning!

How odd, how irreparably odd!
The sheer shock silences my horror.
There is a stranger inside me
Who speaks as if I were somebody else.