I feel as though I'm losing a part of myself right now. My body feels as though it is an apartment that I am moving out of. No one really knows me, not even my family. More times than I have counted I have been asked what it is I want either from life or as a present or to achieve and my brain for all its clever answers to all else, can't come up with one clear answer. I simply say 'nothing' and receive gifts of random nature of what people expect I like or rather who they expect I am...It serves as a constant reminder that I don't..I don't really know who I am anymore. I don't feel as though I belong and so estranged from everyone else, no matter how hard they may try to reach me. I feel as though if you were to reach out to touch me I would slip through your very fingers like a phantom. There is a bitterness in me that I am convinced has evicted my spirit from me.
When I ask myself what has gone missing I can't answer. How do I know what I'm missing was there in the first place. I feel as though I would lay my life down on the line for so many. I do so every day hanging what is done to me. But I know that if something were to happen that final fall I take will be alone. I've always felt this way, divided, separate from the rest with no guard but myself and while I can and will fight to my last for anyone else, I don't feel like I would raise a finger to protect my final breath from passing my lips.
I wonder if I need to wander for a time, but aimless wandering will get me farther lost. I think I'm ready to be lost though. I feel no matter what has occurred as though I am ready.

Do not misconstrue this as someone asking for who I am. I have had people in the past try to tell me who I am, but it makes no difference. I still remain a vacant room. I can walk back into it now and then examining the discolored walls where furniture stood and pick up the scraps of wire on the floor. I can pick up the dried rose and try to find the scent or remember where it came from, but I can't tell who lives there. I can't recognize the staleness of the air as my own.

Where did I go...