Written by Jacob Ibrag
Hard to rest knowing I’m not this person you’re so used
to sleeping with. Forced insomnia, I’m livid for not remembering.
Getting out of bed, I gravitate towards history’s imprints. Trying to use
old photos as notes, doing everything I can to match his description. Yet
I’m not that man, or at least I haven’t been since the accident. I hope
you see him again, I need to meet the man in the mirror.