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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2155840
Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2155840
A girl with DID (Dis-associative Identity Disorder)
Not Me
I look into the mirror
Expecting to see a reflection of myself
Tank skin and silky chestnut hair
But instead
I see clones of me
Hundreds of different ones
Some holding knives
Spoling blood
And making rings out of eyeballs
And others
Running at the sight of blood
Some punk and rock singers
While others with
A sweet and gentle voice
Calling the birds
Some a rebel
A tyrant
Powerfull
With loud voice and presentation
While others shy
Hiding behind the shrubs
Sitting peacefully in meadows
While more skydive and parasail
And even more.
Flipping in cartwheels
And others not daring to stretch
And I search for the personality
To attach to my face
To call my identity
To become me
But once again
I leave the mirror
With no clue
Of who I am
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2155840