Plaguing Inquiries

Am I more than the skin on my bones
And the voice in my head?
More than the streams of blood flowing through
my veins and into my aorta,
ironically, pumping me with life
A life that hasn’t been easy to live but that I haven’t
deemed myself capable of giving up on
Is it possible that I am more than my own words?
my ideas, my thoughts and feelings
What i’ve seen and endured
Is there anything left?
Is there anything more?
My body is a vessel for my soul
But my soul feels out of place
Do I actually exist?
And those around me?
Is the world around me my own mentality?
And if so, I might as well see where it goes
and where I’ll end up
If not back into reality where I belong


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