Me

I have on my wall tacked up so I can read
Words for when I lose my own,
Should it be that in that place
Where I lose myself, between the page,

Between, the wake, of what is, exactly, I project
From wall to page for its sake, I'm kept
I need of what it is when there is nothing

Where I can see the illusion of myself
When I forget and look, suddenly
There is release an escape, essence: I feel free
Of what it is to be me,
Writing down as I fall from where it is I've gone
To go back home to the words
Which is there on my wall.