I have no clear identity.
I only exist to those closest to me.
My identity is whoever I am to them.
My identity is whoever I am in a moment.
My identity is whoever they want me to be.
I am but a moment.
A mere memory.
A mere thought.
A mere emotion.
I am not who I claim to be.
I am not who they want me to be.
I will never be who I'm meant to be.
For who I'm meant to be,
Is dead.
Along with the memories.
The memories of those I loved.
The memories of those in which I cherished.
The memories of who I was.
The memories of who I thought I wanted to be.
Are gone.
All because of me.