I Am Something
Oh no! Don’t tell me I’m nothing -
something lives inside my head,
my black eyes have seen it all.
I leave my calling card on doorsteps,
scattering echoes of wind as proof
that I am a new beginning, waiting
for the fog on the deserted road
to develop wings and begin to fly.
I bare my tainted pen, becoming
something in shadows climbing
over empty spaces, leaving space
for something echoing in soup bowls.
Feed me! Feed my emptiness of soul -
move the migraines in my cloudy vault,
follow footprints into charisma of dawn.
I may mean nothing but I am your world
your empty spot, just waiting to be filled.