I Am Something

Oh no! Don’t tell me I’m nothing -

something lives inside my head,

my black eyes have seen it all.

I leave my calling card on doorsteps,

scattering echoes of wind as proof

that I am a new beginning, waiting

for the fog on the deserted road

to develop wings and begin to fly.

I bare my tainted pen, becoming

something in shadows climbing

over empty spaces, leaving space

for something echoing in soup bowls.

Feed me! Feed my emptiness of soul -

move the migraines in my cloudy vault,

follow footprints into charisma of dawn.

I may mean nothing but I am your world

your empty spot, just waiting to be filled.