Eye on me...

I ponder is weather to whether,

as tic is to tock?
Grammatical companions,

yielding a similar intonation,
with entirely contrasting annotations.

Can I be and eye of myself?
Or does an entirely different me exist,

hiding fastened tightly down,
caught beneath the surface of my rushing pulse,

beating heart,

gasping breathe.

Flesh to bones,

bones to dust,
Till there’s no me

or I

at all

As I die myself,

eye closed permanantly

I am I,

no more.