Mirror
Maybe my body saciated
Maybe
I don’t feel like my one
Like my face like my. Body
My dad feels like. A stranger but he’s my dad
It’s so strange
As if I’m not there
I’m here in action and thought but my body?
That’s not me
That’s just the body given to me
As if random
As if choossen
IM a weird being
Existing in a plane that doesn’t recognise myself
If someone asks me about who I am
I will dust that I’m not what you see, but exactly what you don’t see
That’s me
I slept
And I thought I was me
I thought I was a good me
The me with a good life
He has light stars and trinkets of gold in his eyes
He desont remember some years, but he’s not the same, but he is successful, he is loved, he has opportunities. He enjoys being there, his eye with the slight small and thin radiuses of golden almost liquid shiny on my eyes, pretty, but ever so slowly getting bigger, until my vision is fucked.
I wonder if that’s me still, he got a message from the people he wants, he didn’t think much of it, he didn’t get anxious, he was enjoying the breeze of wind, with people that he enjoyed, and they enjoyed him, in a good car, in a good city, with good air, with good sun, with a handsome face, with deeper voice.
I wonder if he is there somewhere in a different universe, I wonder if I just made contacts with him through this dream, because as I wake up, I am… in a drunk. Lonely, dark, heated bed.
A face with features too big, too much hair, too ugly, too anxious, too drunk, asking too much, to few people, I don’t forget the years as golden me did, he maybe just was a in a coma,
But me…
I m here
I am in these nights, I am in this sad slow and drunk nights.
Maybe fantasy or delusion brings me to feel like golden me might encounter me in the future, maybe I’ll be him.
Delusion in the shape of hope. Just wishing that everything will solve out right in the end. As if all my bad decisions don’t avalanche into me.
As if I’m not even sadder for being for believing my own fantasy life….
If only I could see golden him whenever I see a mirror.