I am, I am not.

I am—
a plan in progress.
I am motion in motion,
a direction headed in the right direction
by way of an off beaten trail
of misdirection.

I am lost
when I think that I have been found,
a vibrating remnant of sound
unheard outside the boundaries that are bound
by the physics of that which is physically bound
to echoes…
of that which is all around.

I am a continuance
of a discontinued lifespan
of a thought provoked by the absence of thought.

I am leftover reserve
of a speech not yet spoken
on the clarity of ignorance
as guidance.

Misunderstanding the meaning
to that which I stand on firmly
which cannot become settled.

I am a plan in progress.

I am not—
quite exactly what I am;
I am not the progress
of a plan.
—Not motionless
in the wrong direction
of that which directed the aimless.

Not found
in thought that is lost
or echoes heard of unbound sound
vibrating in the canal
of undistorted clarity
of meaning meant.

I am not a lifespan of thought
continued unprovoked
to the diluted concept
of thinking.
Not remnants of guidance simply spoken
in only that that can be said
through structure and compliance.

Not meaning to be misunderstood
while standing unsettled in my stance
on understanding…

I am not—
the progress of a plan.