Identification, Please

And then the moment arrives.
And it’s really only the moment of realization,
that the slow, ongoing process of erosion,
has truly worn away everything that I believed I was,
Everything that I had come to believe defined who and what I am.
All that I had chosen to embrace, all that gave me form and substance.
All that I couldn’t imagine my life and identity without,
all gone now, lost, to the extent that even my memories,
disable me from touching.
So who and what am I now? All that remains is a shell.
I wish I knew, if only so that I could get on with the self loathing,
That the inability to love myself, has reduced to an empty gesture.