the me's inside of me

the rational minds says

go ahead, 

tie my thoughts behind my back,

while I untie my shoes with experience.

look, hold the crayon of awareness 

firm and constant,

while manipulating the coloring book, 

under pressure of my own gaze.

so, to ask myself,

do you see what I see?

how can I say otherwise,

to myself,

when we are that same person 

but disguised. 

duality, in this case,

is not cell division for the same cause.

no, I'm not schizoid, 

but I am schizo-phrenetic. 

there is a whole busload of me's inside of me.

they all want stage time and coverage.

not that they ever get to drive,

for very long.

but background yack, yes,

as if backseat drivers,

it's a constant murmur.

it's like a pickup of chatter, 

is my wake up,

early in the morning.

then drive them all day long

and never get to their delivery site.

maybe, they sleep on the bus of me

and I am only the driver.

yes, I am responsible for their here to there.

and yes, they are all along for the ride.

I don't need a radio 

blasting music into my ears,

for they are the eavesdrops 

of unceasing conversation.

I'm really not a word in edgewise. 

you'd think they'd either graduate

or be at, 'your destiny has arrived'.

but no, this bus-ride has turned 

into a campground

and I am the reveling and rambling.

yes, I am the permanent encampment,

a traveling campsite for them, no less.

yes, we stop for food and toilet breaks.

but damn, we mercilessly travel on.

who's up next as destination's call,

I attempt to honor,

but no one is ever getting off.

I am my own career of inner public service,

yet in secrecy undisclosed. 

I do have a very close knit family.

the problem is that they are all of me.

I really have no one to talk to

of a listening status,

that doesn't immediately talk back.

well, actually,

I don't think any of them 

are really listening.

they are all like 

only children unto themselves,

each to its own universe inside.

I'd like to unionize

with others like me,

in the same predicament.

to speak to the reps, 

over all this madness

but then, seriously,

outside of chatter,

who would I have, 

to really speak for me? . . .