Nothing of my own

I have nothing.

Nothing is really mine.

My room is not mine,
The possessions I claim to have are not mine,
The cool t-shirt I like to wear is really not mine,
That pin from that serie that was on tv last month is not mine,
My cellphone is not mine,
My bed is not mine,
This bed covers neither,
The soft teddy bear I like to hug,
Or that perfume someone gave me is not really mine,

I really don't have anything of my own,
Everything is temporary,
Fleeting,
One day it could be here with me, the other it would be someone else's

Only thing I'm sure is mine, is my mind,
My thoughts,
This words, even though borrowed, are mine,
I speak them, I form them, I deliver them.
Mine is this body I move,
Everyday to live this life which is not mine either,
Everyday to witness how things I thought were, are none.

Nothing is mine.
Neither this life nor the next.
You are not mine, and I am not yours.

Nothing is mine.
Even though I have possessions,
I don't have belongings,
Nothing belongs to me but my thoughts.

And with them I must remain...