Turncoats and tranquilizers

Who am I?

I am Atiqah.

I am Tiky.

I am Anthony.

I am Antoinette.

I am Aegis.

I am Asheron.

I am nothing but a figment of my own imagination.

Nothing but a shell with the contents tossed into the nearest reclamation facility, to be turned into fuel, scrap metal and possibly, bits of vital intelligence to be remade into something worthwhile, like a scholar. Or a scribe

An empty, hollow shell.



Where have I gone to?

I have been divided.

I try to please, and give it all, and yet it all

falls

apart.

Because I have divided.

Shunned for where I have been separated into, where I believe I belong, and yet, I cannot fit into any corner or crevice. I have changed, and shifted, and morphed, so much so that my origins are nothing more than foreign territory.



Why have I disappeared?

I was weak.

Weak, and longing for the small space in between enamoured arms that even the youngest of children and the wisest of elders crave.

It was blind love, and the wish to wipe away tears and discontent.

It was blind love.