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In the halls of my mind I walk as I ponder,
Over things that trouble me, big and small,
Over things that tear me asunder;
As though I was made for this toll.

And I burn and melt and boil with these:
The fancily named; dyslexia and schizophrenia,
Even the owned one; Parkinson's disease,
For they make me succumb to insomnia.

And as I struggle with this jumble
Of emotion and thought that conflict within,
In and out of reality I stumble
And only stop when I'm at my mind's end.

Will my intellect stay firm or will it crumble?
My sanity is a thing I always question and contemplate.
"It'll all be fine!" To myself I mumble.
Hopefully, one day, I will be out of this state!
Resilient you may see me as,
Strong-willed and invulnerable so,
Playful with a contagious exuberance.
A candid and amiable soul!

Yet this seamless veil of self-harmony
Covers more than a breakdown that's healed,
Covers more than a little disarray within me,
Covers cracks that run deep.

Cracks on my mental and my soul,
Cracks that have turned into ravines,
Cracks that I can partially withhold,
Cracks that have changed things within.

I’ve stared into mirrors that wouldn't reflect,
Watched pieces of me refuse to return.
Felt joy turn ghostlike, distant and wrecked,
While my soul smoldered — too numb to burn.

A fragmented soul I am indeed,
With a resilience quite-rough-built, though,
All mended with the unending beat
Of the heart of my soul, Hope!

— The End —