My body feels like it belongs to someone else
And my voice sounds strange to me

I do not recognise my hands
Though I inspect them thoroughly

My eyes have someone else’s soul
That people fall in love with

Maybe I stole magic from someone else
Who never bothered to retrieve it

I am my own narrator, cursing at the screen
Imposter in a cloak, somehow not splitting at the seams

But like finding a dollar on the pavement
I don’t need to understand it to believe it.
Although I do not recognise this person
Their life is mine, and I can live it.