Fragmented Identity
8-22-24
There’s something no one talks about.
How much you remain on the “lookout”.
How even though the monsters are gone.
You remain chained to them, it’s pawn.
Any sound can remind you of the days
When fear sculpted you like clay.
Leaving you in intense emotional disarray
Feeling that sharp pain that lingers and stays.
Reaction time is never known
You’ll slowly lose your sense of self.
And no one will hear your cries for help.
Your sense of self is in survival
Dating back to the minds primal.
Now out of it confusion strikes.
Because now there isn’t a physical monster to fight.
Now your trapped in your own head.
Searching for something to put in its stead.
The concept of who you are,
Feels nothing more than your battle scars.
You’ll look in the mirror and not recognize yourself
The bodies toll, the decline of your health.
You go weak and shake, hating to realize
Identity was shattered to survive.
You contemplate who you really are
But all your answers will be subpar.
Because you learned to shift personality with the tide
And all of this, to survive.
Picking up the fragments
Of yourself and your talents.
Looking up and gazing at the stars
Agonizing over who you really are.
