To Myself

And don’t you
aren’t you
haven’t you been the one
the always one
who was living in the backwoods water
down under place
in the puddle,
where it is shadows and muck
and things best left unsaid
all the way down.
I thought maybe
you and I
were of the same mind once,
but then I realized
I was only talking to myself
all the while,
and when I thought you were listening,
you were only speaking your own tongue
in your own head.