Is it really there?
A question whose answer vexes
An illusory notion on the tip of my tongue
A quandary that, to me, perplexes
Is it really there?

I cannot extend my hand to touch it
I cannot hold it, mold, or shape it
If only I could just reach out and take it

Is it really there?

It builds me up and tears me down
Swells my chest and makes me smile
Or wilts my spirit and sets a frown

Is it really there?

Intangible as it may be
It certainly has a hold on me
It shows no sign of letting go

But is it really there?

Abandon or embrace it
Flee from it or face it
I’m perpetually at a fork in the road

Is it really there?

Light as a feather, buckles my knees
Crushes me and sets me free
Why won’t you just let me be?

Is it really there?

---

Without me you’re a hollow husk
I am your connection to the world
Be free of me if you must

But I’ve always been there.

You may never understand
In some ways that’s part of the plan
Simply complex, small and grand

I’ve always been there.

To sort me is to sort yourself
I know you better than anyone else
For years you left me on the shelf

But I’ve always been there.

Inside your heart, behind your mind
Search deep enough and you will find
From the start ’till the end of the line

I will always be here.

---

Let me go.
No.
Leave forever.
Never.
Never leave.
Never.
Explain yourself.
Only you can.
But I don’t know how.
Until you can, I’ll be here.