Insanity arrives

I don't know you,
although you tell me I do;
I've known you for many years.
But inside of my soul
something feels wrong.
And your image does not stir
any memories or feeling
within my bones.
(And I'm starting to believe
that you never existed)

I don't know you,
although you tell me I do;
I've known you for many years.
Except there is no evidence which
supports your claim as I'm
lying in the same bed,
with the same dirty sheets
and a headache which only gets
worse, even with the pills.
Act normal just for one day and
my prize... you'll reveal something
about me, that only somebody
close to me would know, but you
never do.

I don't know you
although you reassure me that I do;
I've been friends with you since I was three.
But there is nothing, nothing but panic
and confusion on your face when I call
out your name in the night, craving some
companionship.
Because I don't know you and I wear
age-old jeans with a baggy jumper-
holes in the end of each arm, which
my fingers trace to remind myself that
I am still holding onto a thread of hope.
Trying to work out what became of a
normal teenager, or what makes your image
linger in my mind even though I don't
know who you are.