I Am Too Full Of Me

I am too full of me;

each step I take weighed down by self.

Abnegation only through guilt;

guilt of me, myself, I.

Or abnegation solely to escape

such heaviness, such guilt.

What will it take to lose myself;

to float freely amongst the clouds?

What will it take to be free of self;

no longer defined by the confines of me?

Maybe the clouds are composed

of marriage-compromise

or the screaming of a newborn child.

Or perhaps those are the means

to cut loose my arterial walls;

to slowly bleed myself of me.

But shouldn’t there be another way;

some other means of escape?

For what use am I,

still so full of shape?

Am I doomed to wrestle;

doomed to stifle;

doomed to writhe

in this saturated state?

Have I been given a Call

that I cannot fulfill

because I am I yet still?