Belonging is difficult
and sometimes a battle
on a field littered with bones.
Those of us
who never got a say in this destiny lay
awaiting a future of souls rather than shells
but we did not know.
I am enough,
am I not?
Although your face is simply flesh
and you are nothing but a figment of
my imagination
I love you,
I appreciate you,
but you
don’t exist.
What are these things that surround me
and why do they talk and fight about things
of no importance
and why do they sip the steaming juices of ground beans,
or perhaps they are seeds,
while rubbing their eyes and pretending to love this reality.
Why am I imagining the collisions that these shadows
will experience?
What are they?