i miss being someone to myself.

i sometimes wish to put up missing posters of my own face

have you seen this girl?
have you seen her?

i'll get calls from people with different voices, all i had never heard before

yes, i saw her walking down the sidewalk,
her shoe was untied.

yes, i saw her at the grocery store,
choosing an apple.

yes, i saw her, i saw her face.

i spend my days floating like a ghost,
reliving its past.
yes, tell me more, stranger,
tell me who i was the moment you saw the girl.

did she looked distressed?

i couldn't tell.

was anyone with her?

no, no one.

oh i hope you find her

i hope you see her again like i did
i just happened to come across her,
me, a stranger,
and recognized her eyes.

have you seen this girl?
have you?

perhaps i exist to someone but not to myself.
when i see my reflection in the shops windows,
it's like staring at someone i don't know.
maybe there will be a spark of recognition
maybe i will call the number on the poster
one day.

missing girl
have you seen her?