Meditation II

I remember exactly where I left off,
when I was stabbing away at breathing,
trying to become one with it.
Naturally, breathing was moving away,
while I kept jumping forward,
restless and exhausted
with the sum total of who I was
arguing about what I was not yet,
and me just moving, because
standing still might tear off my head.

I remember the arguments,
mostly about proof of my expertise
at playing marbles, at being right,
at being innocent, at working hard,
at hiding, and at arguing.
I was trying to take apart a house
with a pile of bricks and some mortar,
bathing in layers of mud,
throwing targets aimlessly about,
and sinking fast.

I remember where I left off,
and I know who to let go of.