What if

I keep trying to find myself,
retracing my steps like a lost child but I always find they have been swept by the wind.
I keep trying to create art hoping it will help reveal me to my true self,
But empty is what I feel every time I lay my hand on a paper.
Then it hit me.
what if I am alive but I never truly lived.
Would that mean i would have been wasting time. deprived oxygen to lung that needed it most.
Would that make me the the selfish monster my parents tried to tame.
I honestly don't know.
But I guess that's what time is here for.