Minutes seem like hours, hours seem like days.
Starring at the walls, lost within the haze.
Aware of my surroundings, oriented to the time.
Watching him come for me, preparing for his crime.
Watching the world around me, seeing every light.
Hearing him get closer, trying to put up a fight.
Feeling the ground beneath me, knowing that its there.
Watching it turn to water, drowning without air.
Holding on to voices, anchoring to the ground.
Losing sight of reality, another voice is found.
Closing in behind me, tormenting me into fear.
The solid ground beneath me, is about to disappear.
YOU ARE READING
Living With D.I.D.
PoetryA random collection of my writings. To me, they capture different parts of myself, while struggling as an adult survivor of child abuse and living with Dissociative Identity Disorder.
