Inspiration

I am me, and you are you,

but you do not exist.

I am here,

somewhere,

with my thoughts and my senses that let me know you are also here.

I can see you sitting across from me. You look different from the first memories I have of you.

You are not taller,

but at the same time you are because losing weight has that affect.

You sit with a calm confidence I do not remember

and seem at peace.

I can hear you speak.

Gone are the impatient, uninterested dismissals from your tongue.

In their place are curiosities, knowledge, and passions anew.

If I leaned over I could smell your cologne

or feel the cotton of your shirt.

If I opened the jar in front of me, I could taste that which was hand-grown in your home.

So here you are.

But you do not exist.

This world is mine.

Every experience,

every memory,

every sight, sound, scent, touch and taste

belongs to me. 

Your entire being is made possible because you are someone

I can see, hear, smell, and touch.

When I die, so will you.

Just as you did not exist before me, you will not exist after me.

You do not exist now.