I look in the mirror and the person I see Is someone who used to be me. That person was happy and healthy, rarely ill, And his energy was endless; he never sat still.
Then one day he disappeared behind my face, And a stranger took his place. I'm living in a body I no longer know, And a pain from within me has begun to grow.
At night, when others sleep, I lie awake, Feeling my body tremble and shake. My limbs feel stiff and my muscles ache. I feel like a rag doll about to break.
"What's wrong with me?" asks a voice from within. "And whose body is this, under my skin? Surely this isn't going to be the new me?" Then a Higher Voice whispers, "Just accept it...it's meant to be."
I searched for answers...a diagnosis I needed. A long 9 months later I found a psychiatrist who heeded. A condition was confirmed; I wasn't losing my mind. hypochondria it wasn't... depression was the find.
°• Black is my Colour •° ×- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -×
In this life I once felt hope. I sometimes still believe in this, but each moment a little less. I feel abandoned in my despair, and it's difficult to repair. I get broken each day some more, keeping these emotions in my core. I find myself hiding behind this smile, the one that shows my denial. I have thoughts of lonesomeness, which no person should possess. I camouflage this so well; it feels like I'm in hell. I hurt on the inside, trying to push these demons aside. I want something better, to not feel all this terror. I know it can be manageable; there are things that make life tolerable. I just cannot find the thrill, like when I was a child with a ten rupee bill. I remember when dreams were imaginable, now it feels like I'm undoubtedly fallible. I wish to find myself soon. This feels as if I'm trapped in a cocoon. I would like to hatch, not be so detached. I need to end this blindness, before death leaves me soulless.