How can I know me?

These hands can create 
Works of art.
They can play a smooth lullaby
Paint a picture
Capture a moment with just the right feeling
But they themselves cannot feel.
These eyes shine beautifully
In the sun.
They are shielded by lenses
And scarred with memories
But they cannot remember
What they look like.
These tears are not of sorrow
Of longing.
This heart
Is empty.
It cannot love,
It cannot beat,
It cannot feel.
This minds plays awful tricks.
It plays with the shadows on the walls,
Refuses silence,
F o r  e v e n  a  m o m e n t .
It does not let me believe in anything.
These legs are thick and seem to spread a amile wide,
and the feet that ache as i stand alone in the rain
cannot run from me.
When i look down at these worn feet,
and these cold hands that look so strong,
and these brown eyes that shine so nicely with the sun,
I wonder why they cannot feel
the beaten path of anxiety they carry me down.
But this body is not me.
I long for emotion, 
For freedom from this pain.
How can i know me
If i have never witnessed me.
I have never seen me,
Never heard me,
Never touched,
Never felt
M e .
How do I live,
If I do not know how to exist?


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