Heisenberg's prodigal daughter

I am nothing.

I am a congregation of cells. An infinitesimal piece of mass in the infinite universe. My thoughts already thought and feelings already felt-my originality is mute and my voice nonexistent. 

And yet, despite the knowledge that I know nothing and the logical reasoning that I am nothing,

I believe I am something.

I am hours of “guess the song” with the windows down.

I am falling asleep to the melodic melody flowing from my brothers piano. 

I am running through the chava blasting music after curfew. 

I am laying on the peak of the mountain, fishing out minute pieces of sandpaper leaves off my tongue. 

I am,”safta why does everyone hate us, safta how can I be brave when I’m constantly afraid,” and, “safta when’s your birthday?” 

I am frantically searching for a door out of this garden in my mind, concurrently praying the door does not exist because I am addicted to the rush of cold, natural air in my lungs. 

I am a heisenbergian being- an embodiment of the uncertainty principle- cognitive dissonance in human form.  

I do not know who I am; I do not know who I will be. Yet I know what I am made of? 

I am made from an endless tunnel of inconsistencies: I am a mermaid drowning in water, a singer with no voice, a girl with no idea who she is.

When you look at me I change. 

To you I look strong, but I am weak. To you I look whole, but I am falling apart. 

What’s the truth...What am I? 

Maybe you are a wave, and I am a particle. 

I am from Heisenberg- I’m his prodigal daughter. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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