history

My history is written,

Enclosed in the minds on those who knew me,

Twisted and fractured.

Changed by time and perspective,

Stored in the records of the country,

Captured in the photos taken,

Caught in the cameras I passed.

My story is shared,

Through fragments, in pieces misremembered,

A life is pieced together,

Diverging from the first.

A number on a sheet in a file of thousands,

A face or a name, never known,

A concept that existed in a different time.

My thoughts are lost,

Never said, gone forever,

Not written, not shared,

Might as well have never existed,

A blank left to ponder for eternity.

I am dead.

A history is written.