I’m not even sure who you are anymore.
I see the photos online.
I see
your smile as you participate in the happy times around you.
But are
you really happy? Or are you pretending?
I thought I knew you, but now I am not sure.
I can’t figure out how you operate, how you live.
Do you even have a heart?
If you do, it must be tattered and torn – maybe jacked up with bits
of machine, to replace the human parts that don’t work anymore.
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