Song of Myself

You tell me you know me --
The way the cogs and the wheels turn in my head --
When at night, I toss and turn in bed
Do you know what makes me sweat in my sleep?
Do you know the secret fears I keep?
You claim you know me
But I don’t even know myself.

If I gaze upon my reflection
Who or what do you think I’ll see?
Imperfection -- staring back and taunting me?
Is there more to it than meets the eye?
What demons raging within can you espy?
I demand that you tell me!
Because I need to know myself!

But I know you! I know your kind!
The kind that dragged me down into the depths of the ocean
With your pretty words
And your needs.
I was trying to reach the surface -- my lungs were bursting --
But you threw me an anchor
instead of a float.
And I sunk even further… Further and further.
And then I drowned.

Maybe that’s how it happened.
Though full of jubilation was I at my own demise,
Mournful, were the other parts of me that survived.
But that’s how the world spins upon its axle --
Ordinary people meet tragic ends in this fable.
“Disillusioned!” you tell me.
But still I sing this song of myself.

So tell me you know me
And I will sing to you a different tune and melody --
Of truths and untruths in discordant harmony.
My reflection is what I envision
Not the familiar figure that you imagined.
You may think you know me
When I’m not so certain myself…
Yet I will go on singing… this Song of Myself