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I woke up one day, and I was someone else. 

Or used to be someone else, 

it’s hard to tell. 

I woke up as someone I don’t know, 

perched on a high stack of stills 

depicting who I was yesterday, 

last week, 

the month before, 

a stack I’ve been watching grow taller 

and more wobbly 

ever since.

I watch the sunset fill the room with the same eyes, 

but different feeling.

I touch the ground with the same feet, 

but different meaning.

I have this strangest feeling 

I’m not me, 

and never really was, 

because that me I’m talking about 

was just a fairy tale. 

It didn’t exist.