I know so little
It is pretty complicated, to say the least
The less you know, the harder it is to understand-to think-to dream
The head being filled with all things you could know
The things you should know
But nothing about what it is you do know.
The books of knowledge, the spectacular energy draining from the sieve like sky above
I hold out my hands, stretch out my fingers, it pours right through
misses my gaping mouth and wide eyes. My skin acts like a teflon coating, repelling knowledge
like I don’t exist, it passes by me with not a second glance
Cool to touch but burning from within
Every thought is consumed with knowing, and it is difficult to think when there is no knowledge to begin with
Every question goes unformed.
What is there to ask when you don’t know what there is to ask?
Eyes seeing everything, yet it is slippery and evasive.
Mouth forming words that tumble out in a mess of consonants and vowels but no rhyme or reason to their order
hyw tacn I erlna?
This is hard work, this not knowing.