046 Stranger
Sep 7, 2018 · 1 min read

The more I write
The less I know myself
As though a stranger
Has slipped into my skin,
Wriggled her fingers,
And tried my pen on for size.
And all the thoughts I thought of as mine
Have stepped aside and left
An open space for some Other's.
I thought I knew myself
I thought my thoughts and dreams
Could all fit into one neat little package
I thought the world was unknown
But I was terra cognita
Instead what is inside of me
Is the most strange
The most unknown
The most unexplored region
In my life.
Photo by Marco Bianchetti on Unsplash.
