Home.
That's a word I've been left a stranger to.
I don't think there was a time where I felt at home.
There's never a time where my body feels like it's mine.
My mind feels detached from the world.
As if I'm looking down and watching.
Waiting.
Breathing.
Even breathing feels strange.
It doesn't feel like my breath.
My voice doesn't sound like my voice.
My skin doesn't feel like my skin.
My bones.
My rotting bones.
Rotting.
Decaying.
Dying.
Withering.
I could go on and on.
I thought I'd vocalise these issues.
My sense of detachment.
Nobody listens to a voice that can't be heard.
Obviously.
