A dream

I don’t exist.

I am not human, I am not a being.

My life isn't real.

I am nothing but a train of thoughts.

My past is a movie. My future nonexistent. I feel nothing. I am empty.

My mind is muddy, blurred, detached.

I do not exist.

I, me, can’t feel a thing. I process fictional lifes, feelings that are not mine. I borrow emotions so I don’t need to have my own.

I am not real. How could I be?

I am a hollow vessel, sometimes filled by outlander souls.

I do not exist.
I am not real.
How could I be?