I'm a wraith, floating through my life.
I look in mirrors and can’t believe what I’m seeing.
I haunt my own skin.
My thoughts are real,
I think, but if I have to wonder
are they really?
Maybe I’m made up.
Maybe I’m the most elaborate dream I’ve ever had.
I only exist to me.
I’m a ghost
pretending to be alive.
I only exist if someone sees me.
But I watch people look right through me,
like I've never been here at all.
I pinch myself and I'm certain, yes, I'm dreaming.
I reach out to touch someone else,
and it's an insurmountable gap,
human contact.
I am all alone.
If I am
at all.
“Do you ever doubt the existence of others around you?”
“No,
I usually doubt my own.”
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