A painstaking existence. 

A natural born burden who hinders everyone by living. An irreversible effect and an unwanted occurrence. 

Trapped in a cocoon of my own negative emotions and self hatred. Perceptions of myself only seem to become more and more distorted… more and more ragged and increasingly painful to harbor with the passage of time. 

The destructive beauty of self-discord. 

Who am I really?

 A figment a fleeting figure, the lingering shadow that mysteriously finds its way in the background of family photos.

Or the voice that speaks and answers to you as you absolve yourself in completely solitude and darkness.

So which one I am ?

She begs 

So which one are they?

He inquires

A slight giggle erupt then they ask

So which one is it?

They ask to know

And then they all turn to me,  I began breathing heavily under the mysterious source of light that illuminates my body in the surrounding body of iniquity.

Giggles shrouded in a whispering tone erupt and echo within the walls 

And then they stop once.

Total silence befalls upon the room and  the laughter quickly dissipates

There was one and then two and three as I raise my head and focus my eyes 

In there soulless eyes, ragged and cold looking bodies

They smile and ask 

“So which one are you”