stuck

Stuck in the third person narrative,
she searches for words
and comes up empty.

Where has it gone? She
tries

tries -

what was that again?

And it's gone,
any first-person thought
swallowed
in the angry sand
of this narrative voice.

It pretends to look
from the outside but
we all know, really,
it's her own voice...

...poorly projected
but fighting desperately
for some velveteen rabbit realness.

And I'm in here,
between knowing and believing,
admitting that maybe I've lost something
and that yesterday was more like
searching for a pearl in a field
than anything I've known before.

I'll admit the melancholy tone
and assure you:
this is no poem.
This is just me,
stuck in the third person narrative,
thinking even now,
," she types.