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Pyrrha Feb 10
I feel captive, hostage, trapped and bound
Within the corners of my own mind
Deep within my skin

I feel like there  is no exit sign, no escape, no doors or windows
But I feel so free
Like I can be, do, see or say anything at all

I push everything aside
Tell my heart and mind that I don't feel a thing
I turn my senses off and I escape

I go where no one else can see
I know people I've never met
And I've been places no ones dreamt

But I  can't help it
I can't turn it off
I can't escape when I dissociate

I am a prisoner inside my mind
I've been hurt and this is how I cope
But I don't feel anything

I only feel the feelings of someone I am not
Someone I can never be
I have memories of someone foreign living in my skin

But I can't help it
I need to leave, pause, reset and breath
I can escape when I dissociate
Viseract Jan 25
Falling silent when I speak
Clamour loudly as I weep
Stitched up mouth, who am I now?
Grunts of pain, the only sound

Ignored back then and still today
Excluded always, as I fade
Then they ask me why I'm quiet
I don't choose to sit in silence

Are you ok? I'm just fine
My reply, a dotted line
That which i ask is what I fear
Query turned, and so I steer

I speak of games, I speak of songs
I ignore the list of wrongs
All the shadows' whispered words
They cause my skull to hurt

I am calm, I am the storm
In the dark I'll be reborn
In my lust I drive away
They do not need to stay

Woe is me, I'm all alone
Typing poems on my phone
Isolated by personality
Dissociated from reality
Faeryn Sep 2020
There's a stranger in my head and the mirror
i know its not me
there's no way that its me
glazed eyes staring back
pale skin, cried for days
its not me
i'm watching someone else's life
ghosting
or sometimes i wonder if i exist
there's a part of reality i can't find
has anyone else realized life doesn't exist
we could run away and never cone back
whatever we do doesn't matter
i'm a ghost that sees farther than the sky
i feel trapped in an open daze
w h e r e a m i
dissociation at its finest
Maria Monte Sep 2020
What is in a name?
An identifier. Christine. Paul. Bernard.
A sense of uniqueness. Foxy. The Rock. Buddy.
A personality. John. Chad. Karen.
A name is something to hold onto.

What is my name?
A label to keep me concrete when people forget
A phrase to pull me back down when I drift
An identity so that I don't mold into everyone else
My name keeps me together

But what does my name sound like?
I forgot where I placed my strengths
I forgot the way it was shaped to my body
My person slips away from the letters as they form into your mouth
and get lost in the bottomless sea of identifiers

Who am I?
Billboards and signs that paint "fragile" across a face like mine
Small, petite, figures that whisper "prey" and warn me of the big bad wolves
Unfamiliar faces that tell me that I am "too much" as my bones grind against them and their hands try to cup me smaller
there is nothing to keep me from vanishing

Who am I?
Worker # 187, making a dime as they make a dollar?
A father's daughter, a person to be handed and never to stand on it's own?
Am I my weakest moments?
Am I my triumphs?

Who am I?
My own mocking voice screaming, giggling, obscenities before I catch myself
My own motherly tone re-directing me from the bad roots in my childhood
I am this thing and then I am another
We are so inconsistent, as people

We forget to keep our names close to our hearts
To choose our own identities,
let ourselves remind each other that we are
who we choose to be.

My name, it echoes against the cages of my body
and it wraps around me
reassuring me, reminding me, piecing me back together
breathing life back into me.
Aspen Jun 2020
“Perhaps I have left to many pieces of myself in the books i’ve read”
“I have left so much of myself in so many places, in different worlds,
with different people.”
“ I have broken my heart over
and over
with all the endings i have read”
I don’t know how to live in this world when I have been in so many better than this one.
Lilywhite Jan 2020
toss away the memory of me in a disheveled mess of cleanliness—

like a lost treasure, bury me in your bedside drawer.

No one will know that I once stood here
Lets be clear...

I was never at home with you.

So when you feel frantic and lost and you’re searching for the things that help you disassociate, instead of finding that thing or two, you’ll find me, staring back at you.
Dark Smile Nov 2019
ick
i pull my eyeball out of my socket
or perhaps,
i remove my socket from my eyeball
the moon is howling
the wind is shining
i grin a grin of blood and ... joy?
eyeball in hand,
or was it the socket?
maybe it's the hand in my eyeball
either way
i take a step towards the water
i feel it lapping at my ankles
i lie down face first
the water breathes me in and
we float
in that uterine comfort we once knew
when I open my eye/socket/hand
i see that i am in a tank
the light refracts across the water
gliding
i worm my way to the base of the tank and i
                                                                                          push
my body is too heavy
i reach between my legs
and
pull out my guts
they slither away into the dark abyss
i close my eye/socket/hand
i sleep
i've been dissociating a lot lately and this is my attempt at explaining what it feels like.
Brandon Chutuk Aug 2019
I could say when it started; I could feign confidence in this place, in the hour. The truth is, I could sail on the rolling tides of time and I'd still yet never move in a straight line. That's how it's always been - like a clock that lags a split second longer on even numbers, and pauses to scrutinize the odd. Like standing in a crowd, waving to a friend you don't remember meeting. Reading words that make no sense to anyone but their writer, or knowing those words are your own; my own. Words where meaning has been lost, a dying light I never got the chance to experience. One day, I will experience it.
Brandon Chutuk Aug 2019
And to speak of glacial pace; a moment to rest, but unsparing to change.
I have yet to leave, so I'll stay.
Shaylie Jan 2019
I cant muster the energy to look
At myself in the mirror
But people still expect me
To lift my feet
To lift my head
And
Smile

I wont wash a dish,
I certainly dont look at the clothes,
I cancel my plans last minute when I should have just said no,
I think my friends are conspiring against me,
And I cant leave my husband alone, what if he finds someone else better equip for our home.

I cant muster the energy to look at myself in the mirror,
But I still get up,
I still get up and go to work,
I am just waiting for the time
Time to pass me by

I'm running out of energy for these cycles
Im running out of energy waiting on my energy
I am in deep water, with crashing waves
Everytime I stand
I am knocked back down
Gulping for air
Only getting more water
Waiting to tumble back to the surface

I cant muster the energy to look at myself in the ******* mirror.
Depression, BPD
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