Versions of Me

There are so many versions of me 
That I feel lost at sea.

There is me, and there is you,
There is myself, a little elf,
and a broken shoe.

They all try to surface 
They all are submerged. 
There are too many
I feel the need to purge.

Who needs to go 
Who needs to stay
Who needs to be kept 
For a rainy day?

All of you,
I think.
I'd want all of you,
in a blink.

You are my ink.
You are my pen.
You help me think.
To begin, again.