A forest resting on my palm

Let meI want to fall into meI''ve become ignorant of myselfAs if my right hand chose to stayLast NovemberBefore he turned twoSo I was born eleven timesAnd I wasn''t completeMy left hand promisedTo compensate me for the lossBut she''s sensitive about timeShe threw me into a black clockSo I ran with its obsessive handsI got used to getting dizzy and wouldn''t stopFrom spinning like a possessed perso...