Sometimes i forget myself.
i let others swallow me whole, like a delectable snadwich running with dressing, though i'm not runny at all, i stand there waiting to be.
I'm not her, you, nor I but i sure as hell not him.
at times i want a title, just to make it easier in a casual conversation, but when outnumbered i prefer me, sort of....

oh you know whom i speak of