What's Me

I can't
I can't
I cannot see.
I can't say hi
or breathe
or be.
I want to know you,
want to free,
I want to break away decrees.
But what I want
and what is real
is what is not the true one's feel.
I can't believe
I can't be me
and can't befall
what cannot see.
I can't say words
that come to sense
nor can I bring
the point to bends.
I want to know
what's breaking now
and causing such
invasive crowds
of overpowered
powerless
and hopeful, hopeless, hoping schmecks.
I can't calm down
I cannot breathe
because I can't
say words like these.
I can't stop now,
nor can I flee
from horrid thoughts
of horrid dreams.
I can't.
I won't.
I know,
alas,
that what I can
and can't
and trust
is what is there
and what is real.
I cannot
want,
nor know
what's me.