I am a great starer at walls

caught up in voices
whispered into the void

streams of consciousness
strung around the room

whirling wisps of thought
weaving through the permanent fixtures of life

drifting just outside the larger mirror
the inner corridor of me

mind paragraphs
curved 'round burdens (worn in places)

I summon confessions left in emptied rooms
then step outside to reminisce

you say I know you well

you speak about the past

but I really don't remember you
at all