Where the moon rises
in the daytime
And the sun shines at
night.
Where the breeze can
whisper secrets
& You can
hopscotch across the sea,
Where you can find a
quiet place to write,
Here, on the little
Island of Me.
Here is a world that
is standing on its head &
Laughing with its
logic perched on a razor’s edge.
Here I find the
characters
That turn the wheels
of thought;
One is a saint,
One a sinner,
& One a
psychopomp.
One is not a liar.
One always speaks the
truth.
One knows there’s
more to life,
Unlike the other two.
One bickers with
another
& One bickers
with none,
Because some days the
one is three
& Some days the
three is… I,
As in the Island of
Me.
So some days I’m a
blowtorch
Some days a wildfire;
Some days I burn
myself
& It just makes
me all the wiser.
Some days I’m feeling
radiant.
Some days I’m feeling
hollow.
Some days I get bent
While I’m waiting for
tomorrow
Because I know some
days are different
But some days are all
the same
And I find this very
funny yet also slightly strange
Because I never was a
psychopomp, a sinner, or a saint
There was never such
a bunch
& One was never
three
I was always I
On the Island of Me
