A Stolen Life
Sometimes I wonder what our life would have been like if it was hers and not mine,
I always say that he stole from me, I just had this sense of deep loss, whether it was stolen innocence or something else.
I know now that he didn’t just steal from me, he killed me,
He killed who I was supposed to be, who I could have been,
A stolen life.
I’ve felt that something went wrong and that this person just wasn’t who I was supposed to be, people talk about their inner child, and I’ve thought about it.
But when I think about her, when I look at pictures of her, I don’t see me, I don’t know her, I can’t feel her, I look at her and we aren’t the same. I’m not her.
Sometimes I forget that without her I wouldn’t be here, I would never have survived, she was stronger than I ever was.
She died so that I could live, we aren’t the same person,
He killed who I could have been.
I wonder what her hopes and dreams were before he snuffed them out, before I was born, she was a whole person and he shattered her, and I was created from her wreckage. She never stood a chance.
I look like her, I talk like her, I have her memories, but I will never be who she was, I’m a clone created out of crushed hope, betrayal and murder,
Maybe that’s why I’m so utterly useless at living this life, it was never mine to begin with, I live a stolen life.
I only hope that I can live up to her, make her proud, bring her back to life again. She deserved more, she deserves a second chance
