"When I dropped him, I shattered"**
the jagged body parts that hadn't
seen a regular shower since the
sadness kicked in
slit into my arms in shapes
people only recognise as a
cry for help.

I recoil from my reflection,
even my face feels foreign
but that doesn't compare to this
detachment; being unable to
recognise my own family in
a sea of unknown faces.
Bruises that I don't remember,
no recollection of a time before.

My body is in a state of flux,
moving with the objects
around me and no matter
how hard I try to ground myself,
6 hours becomes 24 becomes 48
and I'm screaming out for attention
silently, hoping that someone will
convince me that it is real.
That I am me and you are you -
just don't shut your eyes;
the darkness is where it really begins.