No Idea

I have no idea who I am.

I have no idea what is expected of me.

I have no idea how to respond to the atrocities which present themselves.

Where do the lines go that you imprint on yourself?

Where do they lead?

Is it significant their numbers?

Is it significant that they’re increasing?

On your arms was their only home.

Now they grow and stretch

Across your shoulders

Over your chest

Onto your belly and thighs.

Where will they end

Or will they never until they take you with them until you fade away?