I am here, I am real, I exist, I am not an age, I am not this shell, I am not a substance, and I am not a drug except to myself. Distant images of a dream. Vacations spots in eternity. Someone thought they saw me at work yesterday. A phantom moving down a dark hallway. Like a spec of dust on the eyelid, never try to focus on it as it disappears. A resignation to only exist as a word, an image, a movement or a sound in your memory. A momentary tear in a swirl of distraction and logic. I move down this dark hallway as pices fall away. I never asked to be seen in spite of my actions. Beautiful children offer flowers as they steal toys that were abandon long ago.......