Sometimes I Miss Myself


Clip art via ClipArt Panda

During seasons of restlessness and upsets, sometimes I miss myself

The search begins with taking different routes home

Eating breakfast for dinner

Skipping instead of walking

Talking to the cat only in Spanish

Wearing overalls to work

Shaking up routine until the breadcrumbs fall along the path

It would be easier to put out an APB on myself

But it would alarm the people who love me and physically I appear present

But I know what I know and I know when am not

It is silly to miss myself, except it is a ridiculous rite of passage

Only after admission and fruitless tricks

Can I bow to the stranger in the mirror and begin the rigorous interrogation

Who are you?

How did you get here?

What do you want?

Where is she?

Why can’t you give her back to me?

I am Barbara Walters and Oprah combined – kind, warm, disarming, and relentless.

I have to lose myself so I can find myself, I remember

And then

I have to explain myself to myself before I can circle back

I sit with my own disappearance

That I cannot report to anyone

Until the light comes back into me

It is tricky to be your own therapist, PI and fairy Godmother, but most of the time it is possible.

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