mean me, not me mean

how am i to start
telling you about i

i have places insides
where even silence has
not yet spoken
i have a favourite cloud
it is sometimes the shape of you
sometimes, my chilhood
i have not seen my neighbourhood
friends in years
have you?

how would they start
telling you about i

perhaps they’d say
i don’t particularly like
endings

but even then
one must go on
without telling those you once loved
how am i