Free

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I sit by myself in a quiet room, alone
I talk to family I talk to friends, alone

I feel like a ghost
I am not here but neither am I gone
I am stuck in an eternal watch and wait,
Forever observing, unable to act.

I think my head is a cage.
My body is here, my mouth is talking,
But mind is locked in.
Locked in and alone.

I don't know what to do,
I don't know what to say,
Am I the one whose meant to decide,
I'm not sure I'm qualified.

God that makes me feel alone.

It's my life.
But do I have to be the one to live it.
It seems so easy for everyone else.
I'm not sure I can do it on my own.

I know I live a life where I am free,
But I don't feel it.
Unless this feeling is freedom,
Wonderful ,sought for, freedom.
But that just can't be.
All this is is pain,
And god doesn't that make you feel alone.


"Here I am in borrowed bones" Helena Fox


AN: I haven't written here in a long time, I don't rlly know if this is a poem but it feels like one so I'll take that as it is. I don't know if this is dissociation or just depression so take it as you will. Comments make me happy and I'd love to hear your thoughts/experiences

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