About me

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Well, in how many ways,

in how many words,

in how many steps,

I must tell you,

It’s not about you,

never has been,

never will be,

not the headlines,

not the front lines,

not the sms messages,

not the song requests,

not the pining poetry,

not the whistle,

not the glint in the eye,

not the story,

not the play,

never the memory,

not the reflections,

not the letter

or merely even a thought.

In how many ways, how many times should I tell you that nothing is about you.

Then tell me, what is ‘about me’.