Today was one of those days,
Where I woke up
To a phone call from my boss.
“Where are you?
Seriously, c, where are you?”

And as I looked around,
All I could think was,
“where the fuck am I?”
But instead of saying that,
I looked at my grey reflection
In the rearview mirror of my car.
And said, “I’m on my way.”

My pallor was sickly,
The fear of waking up lost.
I should be used to it by now.

My life is a puzzle of pieces
That will never be fully put together.
Some lost to trauma,
And those that are together:
Continuously fall apart.

I sped down the highway,
Thinking, and talking.
Who went off this time?
Why did I end up where I did?
But my insiders were silent.

Now that I was back,
They were resting.
It’s frustrating –
I feel as if they work against me,
But secretly I know we are a team.

When I need to leave,
They come out.
And when I return,
They rest.

Is this the beginning of progress?
Is this how Dissociative Identity Disorder begins to integrate?
Maybe getting lost,
Is the only way
I will find my parts –
And my parts will find me.



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