I can not discern what is mine and what is not anymore.
These hands, these eyes, these thoughts, these emotions; are they mine? Are they real?
Or are they the demons that follow me?
The demons that make up my Shadow?
Poem 11
I can not discern what is mine and what is not anymore.
These hands, these eyes, these thoughts, these emotions; are they mine? Are they real?
Or are they the demons that follow me?
The demons that make up my Shadow?