Gone with a trace
There is a place inside my brain where I have kept her,
The person I was before all of this came to be,
the person I can never be again.
I dare not utter her name for fear that my new life,
and my new identity will dissolve like a Fata Morgana
in the blinding heat of truth.
She is there inside of me and yet not there,
An echo, a memory, a phantom limb