I surprise myself with my resilience I still breath in toxic ambience I wonder if brains alter with what I face jumping from manic to depressive phase I analyse what’s inaccessible see blindness, hear the inaudible Then I see shadows that follow me It’s so familiar, but that’s not me I die several deaths, but cannot flee I just know it’s not me, it’s not me
I constantly have to remind myself that I am not my depression, not my PTSD, not my anxiety. This poem speaks to me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. We are not our mindsets, much more than that. Glad you could relate to it.
LikeLike
I imagine many who read your poem can identify with it. Good work!
LikeLike
This was lovely Reena, I enjoyed it a lot.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jim!
LikeLiked by 1 person
one good one bad
carbon
mono or dio
oh oh!~
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very evocative poetry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sadje!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome
LikeLiked by 1 person