Do not limit me with your questions –
Questions that are naught but manifestations
Spawned of your flat perspectives.
You are not able to see
That I am real.
I am no picture,
Nor an image,
Nor am I an illusion
Because I am real.
But your questions poke and prod and push
As you try to define me,
Pushing me back into the image,
Taking from me my depth,
Restricting and containing me
Within your limited frame of reference.
I am beyond both picture and frame
So I will not fit your limited definitions
Nor your flat two-dimensional perspectives.
You are trapped by and within
This flat soul-less existence
So your criticism and ridicule
Do not stir me
Nor threaten me,
For I know their source.
So I know they are hurled at me
When comprehension and understanding fail you.
To me, you are like figures in a painting,
Moving only as far as the scope of the picture allows;
Defined by your costumes,
And by the landscape that surrounds you.
So no, I will not answer your questions
Unless you show me your desire
To step beyond the picture
Of your current identity.