Split – a poem about………..
There are more than one of me, three in fact, all screaming to be heard, whilst surviving within.
Our voices are often shared, despite being ignored, by all three of us, as we collectively mock ourselves.
I am totally here, even when absent, because I’m so damn dominant, directing the other two to act.
Number two sleeps, on a bed of glass, cutting himself with aggression, for the amusement of one and three.
Three cries out for reassurance, needing two for love and stability, one is absent in this twisted world, wondering if we’ll ever be anything?
I try to restore calm, wrestling with all in unison, forcing them into submission, until I’m left alone with myself.