I am drenched in words
like skin that covers my intellect
while sitting here
I do not feel like any word
neither floating nor sinking
in between two nondescript states
perhaps more
plucking my names
           human, animal, person, soul, pablo
petals – I exist or I exist not
an empty receptacle
in my hand
or a savory thought
or gone with the wind.

Nihilistic poetry