Who are you to follow me? You shadowy lost thing. Crumpled little memories, cards and pictures and such. Who are you to follow me? You who cost so much.
I used to be scared to see your shadow lurking in my path. Now I'm not, since I forgot.. you. Why should I revisit you? I find myself reading caught up in this time of grief. My journals made me sob with memories shoved deep down. I haven't read them in years. I wasn't ready to cry and share my tears thinking about you.
But I did. So many things cross my thoughts as I ponder years ago. I am surprised to realize I don't hate you. I think I read my journals because I wanted to. I can't anymore.. I don't think I ever have. Instead questions tumble out of me...
How are you? Have you been alright? Have you found happiness? Has God touched you? Have you let go? Do you love yourself yet? I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hope so.
Still, who are you to follow me?
How could you?
Why would you?
Is this spite?
What does it mean?
What do you want?
What would you say?
What is your angle?
What do you have to gain?
Who are you?
Are you new?
Are you so sure,
What are you following me for?
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