Lost identity

I cried a lost identity.

I cried and I cried

because I mean nothing to you

and you mean everything

to me, to a lost me.

To a me who found you

at the other end

of the sea of fate.

The salty fate

of an impostor.

But I’ve got proof

of a retrieved identity,

I have rescued myself,

evangelised myself,

I have taught myself

the language of death.

Now I own it,

it’s mine,

as it should always

have been.

But now you own me,

I’m yours,

as it should have

always been.