Seconds and Minutes,
it's all such a blur,
That is until I am able to return,
back to where I live, in my mind,
leaving me with nothing but pieces to put together.
A small recollection of the others taking over,
because I cannot deal with life on my own.
That is until, I met this man;
He tries, he really does, to help me.
Where were you before this world was so cruel to me?
Are you here to set me free?
I declare that I am far too broken, and I don't want to drag him down with the horror, the evil, the tales that haunt me.
There is so much pain, and tragedy,
Surely he is able to see that in the story lines of my face.
Yet his soul is not feeble, but strong enough for the both of us,
as I see in each encounter.
Strong enough to help me escape.
©A. Harris 2015
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Seconds and Minutes,
it's all such a blur,
That is until I am able to return,
back to where I live, in my mind,
leaving me with nothing but pieces to put together.
A small recollection of the others taking over,
because I cannot deal with life on my own.
That is until, I met this man;
He tries, he really does, to help me.
Where were you before this world was so cruel to me?
Are you here to set me free?
I declare that I am far too broken, and I don't want to drag him down with the horror, the evil, the tales that haunt me.
There is so much pain, and tragedy,
Surely he is able to see that in the story lines of my face.
Yet his soul is not feeble, but strong enough for the both of us,
as I see in each encounter.
Strong enough to help me escape.
©A. Harris 2015
This poem is based on a book a read a while back, called Switching Time, based on a woman with 17 personalities.
