"shells"

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?