If You Come Here Seeking Inspiration

 If you come here
Seeking inspiration,
Seek elsewhere...
I need it
Just as much as you do...
I am surrounded by mirrors,
But I can only see my surroundings...
I see no reflection...
I am a watcher
And a wanderer...
Both the observer 
And the observed, 
Camouflaged 
By apparent indifference...
There is a heart
In there 
Somewhere,
I can feel it beating,
And a soul that aches
For 
Something it 
Struggles to name,
But
I feel
These nameless things...
Strange stirrings
Again...
It happens in cycles...
Mary Shelley's creature
Would understand
All too clearly...
I don't know
What I am, 
Or who I am,
But I feel...
I don't know
Why I am here,
Or why I was formed,
Do any of us? Really?
But here I am...
I used to pour out
What I thought was my soul
On coffee house stages
To
Strangers...
Some became
Fair weather friends...
Could they see me?
Now I pour out
What I think is my soul
To strangers
In this online blog...
A few old friends
Give it a glance...
A few can even see me...
Sometimes 
I envy them, 
Because sometimes,
As I have already said,
I can't see me...
Surrounded by mirrors,
And I can't see me...
If the Universe,
Its totality,
Every dimension,
Every particle,
And every bit of matter,
Light and dark,
Had a consciousness, 
Can it see itself?
Or is it sleeping,
Like Lovecraft's Azathoth,
Dumbly dreaming us
Into existence...
Am I dreaming this?
Am I real,
Or velveteen?
Does it matter?
Regardless,
One foot in front of the other,
The millipede 
Slowly moves on
With smooth undulations...
I live in the mystery...
I have no choice,
But to do so...
I am unremarkable,
Because we all live here,
No matter 
The level of consciousness
Or awareness...
Whether you appreciate it or not,
All the beauty,
And all of the ugly...
It's
Just nature
Doing its thing...
Maybe I'll see you there,
Before the lights go down
At the coffee house...
Maybe I'll see myself
In the reflection of your eyes...