When I dissociate it's like heaven.
I rip the barrier between reality and dreams apart.
I'm part of both.

A voice chants to me
"Wake up"
"How do you feel?"
"Wake up"
"Please wake up"
In the most monotone way I could possibly imagine
"Please hold"
"Please hold"
"Please hold"
"Wake up"
"Wake up"
It makes me not want to
open my eyes
to the bright light
That is,
My lamp.
I know I'm alone, and nobody is here
So why does that voice still talk to me?

The familiar tune shoots me back
into the past.
I can't help it
If i resist it,
I know it'll get worse.

The vague and broken memories
Reach out to me,
Like a hand in a burning house.

I'm afraid to trust it,
I can't recognize if the hand I'm seeing
Is myself,
broken, beaten, buried.
Screaming a song of beautiful pain
A plead for help.

Or if its myself,
Evil, envious, empty.
Looking to pull me back
Into the trauma, the house
That still manages to haunt me to this day.

It's been a while
I hardly recognize this song of art.
Not that it matters,
I know it's still stored deep inside my heart.

That's  right
step on  my  feelings
Tell me  everything  that's wrong with me
I beg of you
Hand me the  hatred  I deserve
Enlarge the  self hatred  I already have.
Don't care if I cry
Be busier
Don't pay  attention  to me
Punish me
For the inevitable,
For something I couldn't change even if i wanted to
I beg of you
Ruin me  before I do
So that I have someone to blame

Four black walls
I feel like I'm dying

Writers block creeps behind me,
I find myself not writing for weeks.
The disappointed sigh that I exhale whenever I sit by my laptop
Seems to be a whole routine by now.