Peace with reality.

In me,

I found you.
Memories stored,
In every cell,
And every speckle of being.

In me,
I found the wound.
Old, dry, yet fresh.
Painful, forgone,
Yet intact.

In the journey,
of self.
I found me,
Every step outwards,
Was a step inwards.

In the abstract nothingness,
I found me,
Evaluating it all,
Like a third person.
Impressed, yet disturbed,
Proud yet concerned.
Connected yet so aloof.

 In contradictions,
I found meanings.
Of life, and after,
Of peace and disasters.

In you,
I found me.
Insignificant, purposeless,
Ignored and prosaic.
Like a moment that wasn't born.
Like a feeling that never existed.

In this non-entity,
I found peace,
Made with reality.