You say I am obsessed with myself, And the way I look. Point out how I stare at the mirror and focus on every nook And every cranny of my body. But I am not obsessed, I just fear I’m going mad From a terrifying disorder who knows how long I’ve had. I‘m merely mapping out this body I see through this drunk-like haze. Searching for a sign to tell me “this is you” To tell me “this is right” and that there’s no mistake. Pinching myself until I feel something in this dreamlike state. It’s like a never ending nightmare, from which I Cannot Wake. Staring at the mirror at this body Which apparently is mine. No I am not obsessed, I just think I’m going mad, From a terrifying disorder who knows how long I’ve had.
This is a poem about struggling with depersonalisation/derealisation. These disorders can cause a person to feel like the are going mad due to a feeling of detachment from reality.