Missing me

I miss me

and I don’t know why.

Had I gone somewhere?

Had I ever left?

Who’s been living in this vessel?

If not me, then who?

And what of my soul?

My heart?

An impostor? A doppelgänger? A body snatcher?

Who dare slip into my skin and devour time without my permission? Who dare live so wastefully without my consent?

Here I am a decade later – feeling as if I’d hit my head and can’t find the last 10 years. Can’t see those years. Can’t feel them anymore.

Apparently I’ve misplaced some things, including myself along the way.

I need to find me again. Because I miss me. A lot.


– Rachel R. Vasquez, 5/7/2015

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Once again, no deliberation here. Just have a lot of feels I need to get out these days…