No One

Looking in the mirror,
I think I may have lost my identity,
When I broke down so much of my substance leaked out of me,
Some achieve hiding the cracks and honour that with pride,
I am unable to mask my ruptured crevices and so I cannot hide,
Hesitantly I share my journey,
But that does not make me an exhibitionist,
And please hear me when I say that attention is not what I seek,
I sacrifice all bad judgement in sake of helping others,
I tell all to help other people out.
As a woman of a certain age,
I’ve been left on the shelf,
Abandonment has erupted my ill mental health,
In search of sanity,
I pray for clarity,
Yet remain lost in a haze of memories and dreams,
Triggered psychosis,
Nothing is at it seems,
I know unhappiness,
Loneliness,
Deep, dark depression,
Anxiety,
PTSD,
OCD,
They are all a part of me,
But who am I actually?
With the baggage,
The tears,
The cover ups,
The fears,
Who I am doesn’t matter,
I could be anyone and everyone,
No one in particular,
Just unhappy,
I don’t know how to be anyone else,
Even though I no longer recognise myself

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