I.

I'm alone
again
how many of I
exist without a little speck
of support above them
just the full weight of being
Imposing, succinct and mean,
and how do I find,
a reason to chase the sky,
when my eyes
are clouded by I,
when it doesn't get closer,
no matter how hard I try,

if it is not me,
may you find everything,
when I finally die,
to this period without word,
unmoving, face in the dirt,
this stone I have to stare at,
when it's a clear sunny day,
and all I know is I.