I tumbled, looked at my bleeding knee— the last time I bled there, I was a child. now I carry new wounds. the music misled me, and my clouded mind relocated my brain to somewhere new. the script and the director belong to someone else, I’m not in my shadow anymore, my shadow abandoned me.
yet I used to know it— oh, so well. I knew the moves it would make with me, how it mimicked me perfectly. sometimes it acted silly enough to make me laugh, and rarely, it ignored me completely.
now I realize, with it, every moment, every age of mine has vanished.
June, 2025 by Demon Ego