My body, a marionette with severed strings.
I drift like a ghost through a fog of memories.
I walk. This body, not mine. This soul, adrift in time.
Haunting echoes hide in hollow halls.
I am not here. I am not whole. I am not seen.
The night breathes softly against my skin.
The mirror’s face holds the truth I fear to see.
Living death, an existence unseen.
To live fully is to be half dead.
A heartbeat echoes through the silence of a lifeless mind.
One Way Life 
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