Ghosts of me.

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In your world I wholly exist.

I fulfill needs, I play roles.

In my own, I slowly fade
as darkness falls and
sound stills to silence.

I walk through your illusion,
sometimes drifting into
the remnants of my own,
wandering in confusion,
wondering, who am I?

No one. Everyone.

Anyone. Someone.

When your eyes chance
upon me, you see my facade
and give purpose to it,
though when I am alone,
between scenes of life,
my script at times is blank.

Devoid of meaning
in hollowed places
once filled and full
with the essence of self
I remember once having.

Thoughts of me
that should be mine
have faded, leaving
ghostly apparitions
as reminders they
once were.

Quiet and dim
are dreams
that once danced.

Only their shadows remain.

Crystal R. Cook

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