Sometimes I think I'm going crazy.
Sometimes I feel like nothing is real,
like I'm trapped inside a dream
and nothing has permanence.
Sometimes I get so depressed I can't eat.
Sometimes I eat just so I can feel something.
Sometimes I feel like I'm already dead,
just watching the ghost of my former self
shuffle and stumble her way through life.
Someone please help her, I think.
She needs to be seen for what she is
but the cacophony of misery around her
deafens all to her cries for help.
She doesn't even know what she needs,
she doesn't even know what she wants.
She doesn't even know what she likes,
all she knows is that she is unhappy.
But in this world of hurt,
this atmosphere of agony and angst,
she is just lost.
Everything moves too quickly around her
to see that she has fallen behind.
But there are much more important things
and this crisis within me will take too much time.
I can't do this right now, this is too much to take on.
And yet. I cannot move forward.
I am stuck in amber, fossilizing before your eyes-
A slow and macabre death brought forth by
a change in climate within myself.
Yet I knowingly live in denial,
frantically covering the signs of the amber
Closing in, Entrapping me.
I am not ready.
I thought I had been building a safe space,
where I could hide the parts of me away
that I wasn't ready to deal with yet, if ever.
But the walls I had built have started to harden,
closing in on me; becoming a chrysalis,
pushing me into a forced metamorphosis.