Confessions to no one.

I am slowly learning the rules and regulations of
being good to myself,

And the Lacanian value of starting my sentences with the word, "I".

Over-saturated with tea and talk,
I am obsessed with sleep;
dwelling like a fish in the desert of a dream,
in a place where sentences that start with the word 'I',
are sentenced to a life time of wandering in wounder,
half asleep and half alive.

In the other end,
I am learning to be good to myself,
to grasp the meaning of being awake
and breathing in the reality of air
that in sleep kills the fish.