Nobody

I was always told as a child I had a lucky face. A bone structure that resembled somebody famous. I was force fed this bullshit Until enough of it stuck And the smell of it hung off me Until well into my middle age. this twisted belief I was someone else had, Ironically stopped me from becoming somebody. And now that the lines are etched a little deeper, And the waist a little broader, And the pill a little stronger, And the reflection in the mirror a little less clearer. I finally realized with one more bout of depression That I wasn’t anybody at all. Not even myself. I had destroyed the monster that had been created. No ego. No pity. No self- indulgence. Not even any ashes were left. I was free. I was nobody.