“Identification, Please” by Bob James

TheOriginalVanGoghsEarAnthology

Identification, Please

 

And then the moment arrives.
And it’s really only the moment of realization,
that the slow, ongoing process of erosion,
has truly worn away everything that I believed I was,
Everything that I had come to believe defined who and what I am.
All that I had chosen to embrace, all that gave me form and substance.
All that I couldn’t imagine my life and identity without,
all gone now, lost, to the extent that even my memories,
disable me from touching.
So who and what am I now? All that remains is a shell.
I wish I knew, if only so that I could get on with the self loathing,
That the inability to love myself, has reduced to an empty gesture.

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