I wish I wouldn't let myself get to me,

Stealing myself away,

Hiding from the world,

Letting myself get to me,

Wondering where its been,

The rest of me.

A long time it has been,

Since I even considered all of me.

Set myself down,

And realize that it isn't just part,

And much rather a broken whole.

What am I doing,

I am not so sure,

Lost, I guess.

Lost? Lost? Is that even what I mean?

Here I am. I am not lost.

Possibly here I stand,

Feeling lost, because I am hidden,

Or at least I guess I try.

I have always been prone to hide,

From even great things,

That wander up to me,

Because it all scares me.

I care, or at least. I guess I do.

Never would I have wanted,

Avoid great things, or even just you.

The greatest of the things,

Experienced here, when still you are so far gone.

I keep wondering why, as I look down,

However, as I look down,

Can you see all the things, laying here,

As I look down, how you not even noticed,

The broken whole, decidedly not lost,

And instead just hidden.

May I ask, how you found me, on the far side of the brush, under the dirt, and under the mask,

May I say, that I am not, I am not, lost.

-Joshua Banks JJAJ