Whether I am envisioning my 
self 
on stage, 
adorned with a wreath of vibrantly colored flowers
and a crown of gold,
or
I am lifting my 
self 
on to an innocent, sturdy tree
to be splayed about nakedly for all to see,
I am exhausted by my 
self.
I am victimized by my 
self. 
I am abandoned by my 
self.
If only my 
self 
could instead
abandon it- 
self
in order to join in with 
the breathing of prayers
already in progress.