There are flashes of memories for which I cannot apprehend

And sullen faces for which I do not recognize

 A girl with crystal tears and a broken voice pleads for my affection

But I keep telling her I have no child

A strange woman with my deep brown eyes stares at me from within the looking glass

But she is not me

Her face has far more creases and her hair is not the black night but the grey moon

She can’t possibly be me as she stands there hunched over reaching out for balance with her shriveled hands 

I am still young

I never keep a calendar because the days always run together anyways

Time is not the trickling of sand down a suspenseful hour glass 

But the days that I awake as the sun peeks over the horizon

And the nights that I sleep as the moon illuminates the dark corners of my room 

There are flashes of memories for which I cannot apprehend

And dark places in my mind for which light cannot transcend

But sometimes my thoughts come back to me  

And I realize I am trapped in a false reality