• I’m tired,

    Of thinking fragments.

    Not being able to express,

    me.

    I’m a million broken pieces,

    Each piece not really matching any other,

    But still forming me.

    I’m not a person anymore,

    I’m ideas and emotions and feelings.

    I think about everything now,

    And the black suitcase that used to hold all my bad thoughts,

    Is broken.

    It must be,

    Because all these thoughts are tumbling into my head,

    And I don’t know what to do with them.

    My mind,

    Is depersonificating me.

    And I’m scared,

    So scared when all those thoughts swamp me.

    Because I can’t escape,

    And my mind is a prison,

    And I am a prison,

    And I’m longing to break free.