In the morning, before anyone wakes up, I conspire alone.
In the dark. I creep up and into my sole, and see what lies there.
I crawl along the ground from one place to another.
One hundred voices echo to me, from inside me.
I sit there, in the echo’s, listening closely.
I don’t know what their saying and I like it that way.
There’s no means of labeling, so everything feels okay.
I am here. I am alone. I am free to be where I need to be.
From the voices inside me, I sit next to myself.
And I sit, within myself.