Looking is finding

I lost myself today, put down somewhere, on a shelf, or in a pocket, like a lonely love letter, tucked away in a favorite book, or in a dusty corner, with the dangling spiderwebs, I became a thread unraveled, or did I turn to lint, after some belly button picking stint, I may have turned to smoke, adrift in the air, I know not where my feet are, did I leave them on the stairs, I’m looking everywhere, under pillows and rugs, I can’t find me anywhere, what was I thinking, how silly, how careless was I, now that you have said in a sad sad song that love is not enough, behold that Tarkovsky faker the heartless Lars Von Trier, I’ve lost all my tears, out in the rain, juxtaposed to all I had, I lost myself today, in this sadness in my head, I must be dead or was I dreaming in our bed.

All comments and thoughts gratefully received by the Count.

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