I'm distraught and caught between what is real and what is not
Am I losing myself to people I don't know or in his arms where I was once comfortable?
I've been here before, I have seen you before, I have said this before
This mirror was broken, the shards are hidden in your backpack
The lipstick is there too and you have a scar on your knee from when we tripped in front of his grave
I know you,
do you know me? These feelings are not real, but also not a hallucination
I can't figure it out,
who are you? You don't know the white walls or the broken urn, the salt in my knees, or the irony
The drowning boats, stained carpets - can you even see me?
blink. I'm suffocating.
I'm not here, I'm really not
déjà vu can be a sickening thing but do not be fooled
if I am real, so are you.