You are wondering
If it is truly I
Writing like someone
you have not met
you have not seen
I did not answer
caught between not understanding myself
and knowing too much
it must have been
some ghost
probably my Grandfather
who died
keeping a journal
in his tomb
Mother always tell me
I am my grandfather’s reincarnation
not because we resemble
each other in looks
but because we feel
in the same way
Must it be that I felt
this fear of being lost
of being in a place
that does not look familiar
always far from somewhere
always away from someone’s warmth
It may also be the lover inside me
who does not cry tears
but words
in a language far too different
from my own
a language I never spoke
to anyone but paper
