sometimes
I feel incomplete
not unfinished
but broken
some parts
gone missing
or somehow
diminished
holes I can feel
but not locate
wells of aptitude
falling to dry
memories I know
I once had
but whose
substance is lost
more uneasy
déjà vu going on
where recall
was confident
I’ve lived
many places
traveled the world
time and again
while everyplace
added to me
did I also leave
pieces behind
do I fully exist
only everywhere
never again in
one somewhere
am I only real
during all time
merely a shade
on the present
(originally posted June 2013)