As I sit here I think to myself, " is any of this real?"
Why do I even feel?
I'm unaware of her existence, for her existence vaporized.
As I sit here I keep thinking to myself, "I'm probably not real?"
Am I really here, if so why am I alone?
No love, no guardian angel, just me...
(But)Life has it's ways of fooling you, it's objective is to keep testing you, or so they say.
But I can't recall, signing up to this? Why must I remain? A question we all ask ourselves.
Perhaps I've lost my face, my voice, my name, my frame.. no fate
Or maybe she never existed? Was she just my imagination?
A beautiful rose petal, so soft, so comforting to the touch
silky as her skin, and on key with her fragrance, yet her fragrance is vague to me
Like a rose, she is planted, and reborn.
Like a rose, she grows, she grows, and grows
Like a rose she dries, like a rose she dies

Manatee - Roses

Marco Antoine Buenrostro