Memories.
Flashbacks.
A different time and a different life.
A different person with a different face, a new facade and day-old grace.
Not sure where I've been, where I've come from or where I'm going to, can't remember what path I'm on and what's at the end of this old dirt road. Wonder why I'm here where I am right now, why the grime of the world has followed me through this hole. And there's nothing left for me here, no breaths left to take in this shell of a life; but a new one, yes. An identity; a person; born and created, not me. Never me. That old I is dead and the new one had moved in long before that. I knew. I knew long before it happened that that wasn't where I was meant to be. Now I wonder if this is where I'm supposed to end up; in a dark, abandoned city alone; or with ...
Sometimes the sun is terrifying.
But sometimes it's home.