Non-conscious

I'm walking through a forest. 

I feel lost even though, it seems, the forest is where I'm supposed to be. Behind the trees, of indeterminate distance, sound screams. They're not scary. They're sad.

I want to help even though I never learned how.

There are many paths. They don't feel safe though. They're not mine. My path. And they themselves change. Dissappear and appear again. Like the people walking them.

I sometimes walk them. Briefly with their occupants. Often alone. But I abandon them. Or they abandon me, beneath my feet. They are not mine. My path.

Is it somewhere and I'm supposed to find it? Other travellers insist I'm always on my path. But I look down and I only see grass and roots.

I wish I could find your path and walk it with you. But I understand that's not how this damned forest works.

I'm left searching for the screams. So I can help whoever is in trouble. Sad and alone and fallen on the grass and roots.

These deafening screams. So loud. So far away. So next to me. So in me. 

They're mine