“That’s Not Who I Am.” (8-11 stanzas)

“I get it!”

He yelled from inside the car.

“Sometimes it is hard to take the leap.”

As if through the dreary haze of a dream, I remember something

in fragments

The desert and the canyon.

The hopelessness and the feelings of being lost.

The bitter taste…

“You just gotta let go!”

He flicked his cigarette at me.

“Who are you?” I yell back, my head pounding.

“I am a nobody.

A no one.

Someone undefined as of yet.

The beginning of something new

and that endless possibility of what is to come!”

I shook my head violently.

The signs and the anger drumming in my head were overwhelming.

It all needed to end.

Those horrible images of a pointless life

attached

to

a

name

“That’s who I am.”

                                                                        I

didn’t

even

like

“Who are you?”

My eyes widened, flitting from the dark ledge of the unknown

back to the shadowy silhouette of the man with no name.

Sweet existential understanding broke through the clutter of past things.

That’s not who I was anymore.

“I am you.”

_

_

I stumbled forward

learning to walk again, gesturing for him to move to the passenger side.

Now was my turn to drive.

He smiled that scary smile.

Scary with all the things that now could be.

I closed the door and he shut his

as he talked of how the possibilities were endless now

life was for me to bend again

through the insight I have gained

in enlightenment.

The past was merely a springboard

from which to launch

with lessons learned

and tales to tell.

Nothing to define the man to come.

That’s not who I am any longer.

I punched the accelerator.

The piece of shit lurched forward into the darkness.

For a moment we flew

Until we

began

to fall.

Toward a bright

white

Light

we

fell.

I close my eyes.

Thinking of the metaphor of the ledge.

“That’s not who I am…

…any longer…”

_

_

The sun was just breaking when I waked.

Gasping for breath, sitting straight in the uncomfortable car seat.

The little light just beginning was orange, purple and blood red.

It was enough to show me the wide expanse of desert

bathing in the blooming colors, soaking up the first bit of understanding.

I leaned back in the seat letting the heat warm my cold body

resurrecting in a way, allowing me to feel new.

Blinking I reached for my cigarettes,

craving the menthol flavor

to mask the bitter metallic flavor left in my mouth.

After a few drags

I twisted it into the wood paneling

chucked the rest

allowed a deep breath

and a grateful smile

started up the car

and began to drive.

I had many miles to go.

The adventure had just begun anew.

_

_

There once was a man, who hated his name,

the history and the definition that came with it.

But that man died-

-disappeared.

Leaving behind only a license and a social security number to show he was there.

With those was a note,

written in hastily excited letters:

“That’s not who I am.”

FIN.

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8 Comments

Filed under Mr. Stacker

8 responses to ““That’s Not Who I Am.” (8-11 stanzas)

  1. Ah. What an ending! There was something incredibly cathartic about the entire experience, and the ending was perfect. Absolute, magnificent perfection.

    • J.R.Taylor

      Wow…thank you pishnguyen! THat is incredibly wonderful of you to say. This poem was very dear to me…very much a new way of writing and had some very personal themes that I connect to. I’m very happy that you enjoyed it so much, :)!

  2. Love the ending. And the repetition running throughout.

    • J.R.Taylor

      Thanks holly! I’m glad the ending was good because to be completely honest…that was the part I was the most worried about.

  3. This is fantastic. Completely engaging from start to finish!

    • J.R.Taylor

      Thanks, Muse! I’m really glad this kept you engaged. I was worried that the poem was going to get to convoluted with how long it is because I never write this long of poems anymore. Thanks for reading!

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