Nobody

There is no me.

Not really.

I’m just fragments.

Bits and pieces.

Mostly bits.

Of who I think I should be.

Of who you want me to be.

Stolen bits.

Borrowed bits.

Of you. 

Of her.

And him.

Of this.

And that.

That will never fit together.

All the pieces in the world can’t always make a whole.

The shell changes.

The inside remains empty.

You can’t see it

Because you can’t see nothingness.

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