I am nothing. Just as I’ve always been.
Not an illusion, only a delusion
Not even a dream or a distant memory
Maybe a rumor. But one that was never told let alone spread
Only if I was once alive could I then be dead.
For a moment I thought I was alive. For a short season I felt like I was something
That was the illusion. That was the dream
That was the memory that remains unseen
That was the rumor.
If sadness and pain are the deepest and most consistent part of me
I’d rather not be.