My mind is trapped between two worlds.
One is real, the other is delusion.
It's getting hard to tell one from the other.
Each day the portals collide farther into each other and that once so clear line becomes a warped scribble stretched in certain parts and swirled in others.
Like a distant memory or a face one hasn't seen in a while, morphed by layers of human perception.
In one world I am myself but at the same time I'm not at all.
In the other I am not my own identity, but I am more myself than I have ever been.
I don't exactly when it started, this specific set of circumstances I can only have found myself in for no more than 6 months.
It's specific, it's tangible even.
I've always been trapped between the two worlds, one way or another.
But the delusion is older than the worlds have ever been.
Like me my disease is growing, festering, hungering, waiting.
I tell stories as all storytellers do, because if I didn't, my mind would be enveloped in the milky galaxy of delusion only I can see. I like to think that I control the galaxy, all humans do, but I know that it is its own living, breathing thing. It lets me think that I seemingly orchestrate the events that occur.
It lets me take comfort in the warm boundaries of the galaxy as it slowly takes pieces of me, until all that's left of me is the congealed perception of control marinating in the thin film of my own brain. Until I am gone.
- Eli
All works are my own originals, All rights reserved.
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Cracks In The Concrete
PoezjaThis book is the progress I make over the years trying to detangle years of childhood trauma and mental issue's. To anyone else it may seem completely incomprehensible but that's okay. I write for the reason all writers write, paper is a better lis...
