What am I?

I wish I knew the answer to that myself.

A silent spectator to the rampages of time. An avid reader. A wonderer. A wanderer. A poet (not), a muse.

The voice of a scream lost in silence. The ghost of a hand seeking the warmth of another.

The longing of a heart weary for a home. The whisper of a thought, yet unformed.

That is what I am. Who I am is an entirely different matter.

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