Life itself is cruelty.
Selfishly being birthed into a world where all that awaits is a  slow crumble;
Life is a curse.
Living is never enough and then it becomes our nature to feel living another day as a burden.
The past is as frighting as the future.
Civilizations have ended and countless lives forgotten once their time has expired.
Where was I when their time began?
There's no recollection or feeling just black emptiness.
I cling to the consciousness I have now.
For if it's gone I would no longer be me.
Without it not even I can recognize myself.
Pictures from 20 years ago haunt me with eyes I don't identify.
Eyes filled with the consciousness of another.
That child's not me but I am she.
As if one day I inhabited the body of someone else and stole her place in this world.
Where has she gone?
In 20 years from now would the same fate await me?
Some strange being realizing consciousness in this body I called my own.
Will it think of me in the photos I take or will my existence be wiped away like the soul of the child who's body I've taken.