Sometimes I can not see myself in the mirror
Sometimes I dare not touch myself in the hope of forgetting I am real
Sometimes I forget to feel.
Sometimes I wish I had not invited myself to dinner.
Sometimes I forget to shiver, though chilled down to the bone.
Sometimes I loose myself, only to find myself trying to find myself.
Sometimes I pretend I am dead
Sometimes I pretend I have no head
Where would I go?
One day maybe I’ll know.
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