Not Even Me

Open, a photo of my family, we’re all so young, so close

Turn, I seem so delighted, Easter egg in hand

Turn, we’re at the zoo

Turn, my sister and I riding bikes

Turn, I'm sitting with my new crowd of toys next to the Christmas tree

Turn, I'm enjoying cake on my eighth birthday

Turn, I'm running

Turn, I'm crying

Turn, Turn, I'm a few years older

Turn, this wasn't that long ago

Turn, I've won an award, one of many

Turn, new scenery

Turn, Turn, my siblings

Turn, My family, my mother has cut her hair

Turn, I'm smiling, seated at the dinner table

Turn, my old friends

Turn, so much has changed

Turn, Turn, my family, someone is missing

Turn, me, again

Turn, at home

Turn, me

Turn, me and my sister

Turn, me

Turn, me

Turn,

Turn,

Turn,

Turn,

Turn,

Turn,

End.

Nothing is the same.

Images, they were all images of me. But were they ever really me?

Time has elapsed,

I’ve been molded by the world around me,

Crafted with change.

In the face of depression, and fear,

The world has come crumbling down.

These pictures aren’t me. They were once, for an instant but never any longer.

I’ve learned to love, not the ones people think I do,

I loved too much.

I’m specific.

So Alone.

Everyone has somewhere to be, but me.

Mirrors show me a stranger.

Nothing is as it seems.

I don’t know if I know me, so how can anyone else?

I shatter every border.

The natural order, my natural order, is disorder.

There is no fix, all buildings must come crumbling down.

No matter how many times you rebuild,

No matter how strong you think you are,

Entropical force says otherwise.

A pile of pieces, with no definition.

No one knows who I am, not even me.