[sometimes] I'm so outside myself, I can barely feel

my feet on the ground. Detachment- the voices in my head

are the only sound.

and on others I feel so heavily placed in my bones

that I couldn't even turn over to

strangle myself.

sometimes the icy chill of the pillow is the only

thing that reminds me I am alive

they end up taking over for you. voices that can

speak the words better and you're just curiously awaiting the words they say.

sometimes I'm so outside myself, I watch myself

as I sleep. And they try to convince me, its better this way

or so it would seem

until my head feels so heavy, it can barely dream

like an illness that is spreading displacement from

the base of my spine and the desperation that comes with knowing

this emptiness comes from deep within

like a missing piece, that makes you want to rip through your

arteries, misplace every fibre, tear up every tissue

until you find that empty bit

so you can fill it in