Me, Myself, and I

I no longer identify with Me, Myself, or I.

The muddled triune trying to work in union,

with no place for a rendezvous.

Me is away on a selfish getaway, an introspective quest looking for Promise.

Promise is a bittersweet tizita, an echo of childhood names and games cloaked in war, famine, death, and pain.

Yet Me does not understand that past is the past,

a few experiences and lesson to be had.

It’s time to get a move on!

I is lathered in it’s lies about it’s own demise,

a shaky deal compromised by it’s ties.

I is quick to hide behind its titles’

African,

Ethiopian,

Black,

American,

Adopted,

Student…

Titles used to separate and equivocate a massacred.

Forgetting that our souls walked into these vessels alone,

Unfettered by titles and labels.

While Myself, is possessive and possessed by it’s selfish gains.

Taking credit where it’s not due and ownership where it’s not needed.

How did we succumb to this foolery?

Are we not one and the same?

-Mitu

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