This is not me.

I am not here,

this is not me -

I am holding a photograph;

the face is in its youth,

and that smile is full of uncertainty.

This is me,

you don't believe it

and I believe you,

you tell me it's a lie

I think so too.

I notice a photograph hiding

beneath the mountain of memories,

curious as to what it may be -

I peek at it

with a hammering heart.

Eyes that are darkened

by the overwhelming depression -

the face of a ghost in pale light

even now, it is not me.

I am nowhere.

Reviews

[emipoemi]

I'm at a point right now where after I read one of your poems, I'm amazed out of my being that I don't know what to say other than absolute praise (but in most cases I don't know how to put that into words). I'm still looking for something that can top "stormy seas" (that's still your bar), and I haven't seen that yet. BUT, that doesn't mean that they're not good - THIS is fantastic! - it simply means that "stormy seas" is your best so far. Well done!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

We can often become lost and find it hard to recognise ourselves either as we age or face trauma. You capture the essence of this so well in this piece.

[Relic]

Life has brutalities which have the ability put a stamp on the heart reading: sadness. There is no expiration date on such a thing. We must find our own way out. Hopefully for the better.