May 2018

Poem: Living the Life of a Ghost

Do I know who I am?
I have a name, but is it mine?
Am I the first to walk this path, or am I but one of many?
Or perhaps, I am the last?

But it does not matter.
“I think, therefore I am”
Or is it,
“I think, therefore I was”?
Someone. I. She.
One in the same?
How many between?
There can be no way to know.

Am I writing my life or reading it?
Did she already write it once before?
Am I living the life of a ghost?

Perhaps I walked up to her grave and pressed play.
Then, I forgot who I am and came into this reality as her.

Am I in a moment of lucidity or a moment of delusion?
I am not one to judge.
There are far better ways to spend my time here before it ends.

I don’t know about me, but she feels real.
Her memories, her thoughts, her fears, her pain.
I feel it all as though I am her.
Because I am her.
Now, at least.

But is my path set in stone,
Since the moment I was born,
And stepped into a life that’s not my own?

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