I was Somebody once.
The ring said so.
I belonged, belonged to, was taken, taken up, taken in
absorbed, consumed, contained.
like a buck in a crocodile’s stomach
that stops flailing, resigns itself
Now, I’m Nobody. I stare at four walls
at all my four-square loss.
Truth doesn’t pay the bills
and nobody calls.
Was it I who held up the facing mirrors
the infinite illusion of Self through Other
hunting down the severed connection
private poster child for the vacuum-sponge-crack-addict
of our interminable wanting?
I’m nobody now, nobody that I was.
“Belonging” is about that moment when you realise, with a great ocean-wave-drown-dump of insight, that your life is so much more than your own wandering path of half-blind choices. We’re born hard-clung to the the thin wedge of history – the vagaries of choices and rules past and present. Doing our best to become something more than the arbitrary package bestowed on us at birth.
Written by Lana Hunneyball
Editor I Writer I Author I Poet
I believe in the power of words to connect, inspire, and transform.
"Life is giving birth to yourself" ~ Erich Fromm