Couldn't Be Me

This is a poem I wrote when I was like 12, so please excuse the messiness of it. But I still like the concept, so I figured I'd share.

I sat in a window and watched a reflection

I sat there and wondered about my direction.

 

When I turned to look, all I could see

Was a girl in the window, who couldn't be me

 

She seemed for the moment far more real than I

Does each human live, only to die?

 

Was she the real and I only the reflection?

Was I a mistake, and she the perfection?

 

Or what if we were one in the same?

Both of us owning the other's name

 

If she were me, then I would be her.

But no, it can't be, for she seemed so sure

 

That life was real and she did exist.

I could only stay with open eyes and clenched fist.

 

I thought of my memories, were they really hers?

Had all of my hopes and dreams been transfers?

 

And for just a moment I wished it would be,

That she did exist in real life, and not me

 

That my life would end, and I could be done away

That I could leave, and she had to stay

 

In that moment I wondered if it were true

These things I had thought and hoped to go through

 

And if it were, would I want real life?

Was living indeed worth the pain and the strife?

 

But if I did try,

Is there a chance I could fly?

 

Could it ever be worth every tear I had cried?

Could my life, soul, and heart ever be satisfied?

 

Is there something or someone to tell me it's true?

Cause words and theologies would only help few

 

I was told awhile back that life could be free,

In a person, a creature, who made you and me

 

If that had been truth why was I still bound?

Is there no way real freedom can ever be found?

 

This being had somehow created the world,

Yet never spoke to me, not one single word

 

I thought I had loved this creature a while back,

But I realized the one thing I did lack

 

It was love that I did not own

It was love, I had not shown

 

So if I did not love this being,

Why would it love me, for I am unseeing?

 

I pondered all these things and more,

When before me, the window became a door

 

Beyond it lied,

The thing I hoped for, the thing I tried

 

If I were to walk through that door,

The reflection would reflect no more

 

If I was the reflection, I’d become the being,

If I was the reality, my life would no longer be seeing

 

I could choose to walk through that door,

And find what I was longing for

 

The thing that stayed in the back of my mind,

Was I the real one? Would I be resigned?

 

If I walked through,

Would I really be true?

 

Or would I become,

The thing I was running from?

 

I tried and tried but could reach no decision,

When again, changed was my vision

 

The door was gone, and there laid the window,

And the reflection of the one I didn't know

 

And now when I close my eyes I can see,

The girl in the window, who couldn't be me

Author's Note

Does the story of it make sense? I follow it easily, but that may just be because I wrote it.