[untitled]

I haven't posted a poem for a while... & I'm contemplating some things...

a puzzle, an awakening

It was hard
to awaken the real me
when the ghosts had been running a muck for years
slowly
I became aware
of all that lie beneath
fractals
shards
I felt like
broken glass
like I was grafting
“frankenstiening”
things about a crowd of people
I thought I met once
I kept thinking
I liked
the pieces
would I
could I
like them assembled?
could they
would they
end up
as me?
then
who, exactly
would I be?
Am I making me?
or…
am I
awakening
to the me
I was born to be?

by
B.E. Noll