Tortured Muse

Being in touch
With an ever changing self
A tense ball of wants, desires, needs
An echo chamber of not-so-forgotten pains and feelings
Swirling with desires, fantasies and contradictions
Sometimes awash in emptiness and unease
Makes me question:
What am I?
What is this thing looking at this self lost in these thoughts
That arise from nothing
Ping from here to there
Circles upon circles upon circles
Ranging through pasts long gone
Arcing to futures unknowable?
Who shines their light against my subconscious
Illuminating things here and there?
Who threads the plots in my dreams at night
As if they have been here before?