Every time I hold the pen, I am drowned in this feeling.

My head is overwhelmed by a storm of words, lacking all meaning, all sense.

I try to write down any idea, but this senseless logic spinning inside is beyond my understanding.  

As if this brain was not my own, I feel lost.

I'm tired of straying aimlessly in my thoughts, so I abandon all to this overflowing emotion.

My hand is numb, my eyes blurred in this confusion, and my head slowly drained of all reason.

As if this body was not my own, I feel lost.

When the storm finally passes, I drop the pen carved in my hand.

My brain is worn out, empty. All I can see is a crumbled, blank, page eating me alive.

I am no longer my own.

I am lost.