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Beside Myself



I am standing next to myself,
but I can't see myself in either direction.
I speak to myself—in encouragement?
In warning?  I don't know,
for I can't hear my own words.
What separates me from me
is neither space nor time—what is it?
One lives and one dreams of life—
but which is which?  Which am I?
I am like a ghost that haunts itself.
The me-shaped place where I am not
seems at times more me than I do.
Where I walk, I follow,
and where I stop, I wait.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.