me or you?

am i myself yet?
or am i still just a by-product
of you? a carbon copy
a spit-up reject’s facade.
somewhere between the pages
i lost myself in the ink transference.

am i myself yet?
i can’t remember
why i do what i do anymore.
the ink was itching, peeling,
but i never bothered to retrace
myself. was it even me?

or is this you?
crinkled and torn, my copy
is not who i want to be.
it no longer deserves to be framed.
i toss it in the trash bin.