My Name

I've had many names. Some still linger. One, uttered by a brother, another by a long-gone lover. One rolls off the tongues of strangers, another by the ones who converse. Yet I find myself in none of them. How is it that something that dictates my existence always carry the weight of the wind that passes by? Both, feels temporary. As if I am yet to be born. As if I am yet to be named. How is it that life feels non-existent?

I find myself wishing for time to come to a halt so that I can take a breath, gather my thoughts and feel something, anything. Time is not what it used to be. It used to be that time would accompany me while I took long walks under the dim street lights of the city. Time would fuse into my music and deafen the loud voice of the subway. Time would watch me lay on the grass, surrounded by friends. Time would never utter a word while I stood on the railings of the bridge, wanting to jump. It seemed like time was always by my side. Now, it feels as though, like all the friends and long-gone lovers that surrounded me with smiles, time too is gone.

Maybe this is just a boring chapter in my story. Although, these days, i question if the entire story is boring. Sometimes I look into the eyes and the lives of people and I find glimpses of my past. I miss how things were, yet I know that each one of those memories are gone for good.