the Caterpillar

He spews watermelon smoke at me

while peering down at me from an upper branch.

Nothing has been making sense

since I fell behind the woods

and hit my head, I presume.

“Who, are you, girl?”

he asks me,

once again spewing smoke my way.

I coughed while inhaling some of the sweet vapor myself.

I looked at him blankly;

I’m afraid I had no answer for him at all.

“I don’t know what you mean” I lied, in avoidance of the question he presented.

He shook his head. “I believe you are well aware of the question.”

Shit, he’s some type of giant mind reader bug. What the hell is this place anyways?

“I will not repeat myself, girl. Just answer.”

Blankly I looked at him again, and then just closed my eyes.

“…I don’t know.”

“So you don’t have a name?”

“you mean you just wanted to know my name that’s easy-”

“I think you knew what I meant by my question.”

“Here’s the thing. I know my name, I know my age, I know a lot of things. But I don’t know “who I am”. At least not yet, anyways.”

He looked at me, inhaled his vaporizer, and smiled while releasing his clouds of smoke he was enjoying. “I think you know a lot more than you are telling, girl.”

and with that he vanished leaving me even more confused than before.

One reply to “the Caterpillar

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