I read your book by Jean-Paul Sartre 

And then you decided to leave

Me with the idea that everything I know, 

Might not be everything.

And with my kaleidoscope of pendency, 

I am suddenly doubting my brain

Now knowing I can conduct every thought

Even the ones that cause pain.

Emotions become unobtainable

And obtainable awareness became,

Aware that I might never be the same.