Real People

silhouette of woman under rain
Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric on Pexels.com

I try to peer through the vail of my misted mind and see the same world as you do, feel it’s touch the way you do, embrace it the way you do and yet as darkness falls and the insecurities of nighttime envelop me once more, my inability to break free of my emotional prison still haunts me like a bleak shadow, a shallow yet permanent reminder of our differences.

You lie next to me, snoring softly, dreaming of fun, of family and anticipating the unique possibilities of a future wanted, awaited and expected just like real people are supposed to do. A future I don’t know how to see.

Perhaps I am but a replica of a person now, a hollow soul, tortured, forgotten, watched but never seen. For one can still find themselves alone in an over populated world.

This is my limbo, cast upon me for the sins I no longer remember and a past I cannot forget.

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