I am being split, torn apart.
This is disintegrating, dissolving, dissociating.

I feel too much until I feel nothing at all. The misery and anguish vanish just as the first tear falls.
This is overwhelmed, numb, bipolar.

I starve and then binge. I want control but release it once I get it.
This is grasping, reaching, flailing.

I need to go out and do something, but as soon as I take a step toward the door, I retreat to my bed. I long to taste freedom, and I am the one confining myself.
This is incarceration, entrapment, suffocation.

I am ashes scattered on a raging sea, dead and fragmented and irreparable.
*Not even all the king’s men could put her back together again…