Perhaps I exist
As a sealed letter
in a dusty old box,
under your bed

Maybe I am kisses
light red and faded
Words on the tip,
left unsaid

Could I be,
a lecture you attended,
topics you ignored,
and went over your head

Am I a vision?
hazy, seen under
A night of shame,
that fills you with dread

I might be words,
that fumbled and slipped
or scribbled on paper
then, to pieces shred

Was I a dream?
chained to REM cycles
and with a pill
forgotten instead

Or that tree
alone in the forest
I fell and no one heard it
Do I exist?

Art: Tree of Life - Gustav Klimt (1905)