I'm emotionally detached,
in twenty nine days ninety panic attacks,
I see through your eyes,
straight to your past,
the times that you meant it when you really laughed.
Your crescents hate light,
and descend through the day,
I'm deciding my mind between painful and sane,
dividing a line between not okay and opaque.
A plaque I was given;
replying quotes to a mirror image of what I thought could cope.
I know my life's doubtful,
more mournful than most.
Lost in translation as feeling the least,
a leash on my brain and one sense of release.
I wanna meet sharpness to punctured my breath,
rather than losses I can't reconnect-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
This poem is about how unattached I am from myself. I hope it makes sense