"Who am I?"

I took a long walk tonight
stepping slowly down the streets of Paris.
Somehow I felt blind
because nothing I could see was anything at all.

I thought of sleeping on a bench
to substantiate and justify
my constant feeling of being homeless
my everlasting search for shelter
in places
and faces.

Even a child who plays hide and seek
would want to stop playing after some time
if (s)he couldn’t find the other kids.
And anyone laying a puzzle
would be puzzled themselves
if they couldn’t find that last missing piece.

I am too,
tired.
And,
I am too,
missing.


There is an expression
"so far, so good"
but I'd rather say
"so far, so bad"
though I keep my words in my mouth
because nobody likes an ungrateful, whiny bitch.

So instead,
I want to thank all the people in my life
for they have contributed to my death
And I'm hoping for resurrection
like the one Jesus supposedly had
but I don't think it's going to come
because I can't perform miracles.