It's a strange thing, to not "be"
To not exist to someone else
I exist to my family, to my friends, to my colleagues,
But not to you

I used to "be" for you, to exist in your world
I used to mean a great deal to you
But now you have erased me from your perception of reality
And I no longer hold a place in your world

But you're still in mine. You still exist to me, you still continue to "be"
You're faint, and grow fainter by the day, but you still exist
You are the flicker of memory when I see a mutual friend
You flit back into reality when I drive past your old house

Since you are so faint, and I don't exist to you,
It always catches me off guard when I have to pretend things are different
When someone talks about the old days and reminds me of us
And I feel I have to play along and carry on as if those days still existed

But they do not; they were snuffed out long ago
I built the coffin for our mutual world, and you hammered in the final nail
I was the author, you were the finisher
What destruction we have caused

And all around us, this is going on:
Mutual worlds bursting into existence or collapsing upon themselves
And we all carry on like it's not a strange thing, to not "be"
To not exist to someone else