Whispers of the Soul

Personality Disorder

Fragments of Me

In the mirror, a stranger gazes back,
A patchwork of moments, a life out of whack.
Each piece tells a story, a whisper of truth,
Yet stitched together, they lose their youth.

One fragment dances, bright as the sun,
A joyous reflection, where laughter has spun.
But lurking behind is a shadowed refrain,
A quiet reminder of lingering pain.

Another is fierce, a warrior's might,
With armor of bravado, I'm ready to fight.
Yet when the armor slips, and the bravado wanes,
I'm left with the echoes of unspoken chains.

Then there's the dreamer, adrift in the stars,
Crafting wild visions, forgetting the scars.
With eyes full of wonder, I reach for the sky,
But when daylight breaks, the dreams seem to die.

And there's the caretaker, gentle and kind,
Always giving, forgetting to find
The self that needs tending, the heart that feels small,
Lost in the shuffle, fading into the wall.

Each fragment I carry feels heavy with weight,
A collection of masks I create to relate.
But when night falls silent, and I'm left to unwind,
The pieces collide, leaving chaos behind.

Who am I truly, beneath all the noise?
A chorus of voices, a battle of poise.
The laughter, the sorrow, the strength and the fear—
All coexist in me, yet feel so unclear.

I wander through shadows, searching for me,
In the cracks of the surface, in what used to be.
With each step I take, I seek to reclaim
The essence of self that feels lost in the game.

So I gather the fragments, one by one,
Embracing the chaos, the fight that's begun.
For within this mosaic, this beautiful mess,
Lies a story of healing, a journey to bless.

I'll weave all the pieces, let them intertwine,
A tapestry rich, with colors that shine.
In the fragments of me, I'll learn to believe,
That even in chaos, I can learn to achieve.