I don't hold any memories
Nothing that tells me what I like
Or that tells me what I was like

For all I know
The only place I do know
Is this bed of white sheets
Where I wake up each day
Every day these past two weeks
And the only person I know
Is that lady in white
Greeting me every morning with a smile
If nothing else, this sight
Has found its place in my mind

She showed me someone
Someone who claims to know me
Someone who went to school with me
I do not know him though

His 'me' resembled a butterfly
Flitting between the flowers in a garden
Giving each the attention deserved
Gracefully, without any reserve.

An image that felt quite foreign
To this husk that remains at present

Another day,
She showed me someone
Someone who claims to know me
Someone who shared my blood
I do not know her though

Her 'me' seemed like a wise cat
Knowing when to pick a fight
Knowing when to restrain its bite
Knowing how far of an arm's length
To keep itself away
From being too involved or too little
In any event of concern around it

I should learn from such a cat,
But I find it hard to believe I was that.

Yet another day,
She showed me someone
Someone who claims to know me
Someone who claims to love me
And also claims to love me as I am
I do not know her though.

Her 'me' painted a picture of a vase
Holding tulips and daisies,
Broken to bits yet held together
By some substance unfamiliar.

I can't seem to comprehend
How this vase stands on end
'Love,' she says, but it's only
One of many four lettered words
That fill the same space as 'vase'

As my days went by,
Meeting people who knew 'me'
A choice needed to be made.
Which one of the 'me's is me,
And which one shall continue being me?

The shell I am doesn't remember
Holding a butterfly, a cat or a vase
The person I am now
Doesn't owe any of them a place

Yet I wonder
Would it be wrong of me
If I chose one while forsaking the rest?

It's always a little easier
To trace over the lines already drawn
By someone who knew better

Should I be giving up
A chance at a clean slate?
A chance to let myself
Be free like a bird not caged
A chance to take a shape
Any 'me' has yet to take

I wouldn't know better
After all, the only place I know
Is this bed of white
And the only person I know
Is that lady in white