Who is the real me?
The one who laughs at the person while they mentally struggle
the one who tortures themselves mentally
the one who is scared, traumatized, alone
Neither do I know the answer, because a lot of people live in one person
They tell each other bedtime stories to kill themselves
They talk in a...normal people language
A string of thoughts come oozing out of the fractured brain
Bits and pieces of bone crumbling as I ate my own skull
I ate away at my own skin, my own flesh
I drank away my own hopes and dreams, drowning them
with meds that will never heal you
I continue to eat at my moldy brain
Rotting away in my own home
