Out of my mind

My soul is screaming, gasping for air, locked up behind the bars of my trauma

Memories of horrors make up the guards to this self-inflicted prison

Crying for help but no help will come

No one to hear

A broken mirror, blood on the floor, my blood, ink coloured

A reflection, a little girl, an old crone, a warrior, who are they all

Questions questions but no answers

Shard of glass in a hand that should feel the pain but feels only relief

Orgasm of the mind as sound breaks through the quiet

Is it wednesday already

A painting appears out of nowhere and disappears into thin air

Floating images of a land without snow

It’s getting colder in this prison

Winter is covering me in a thick heavy coat

Brown wool to blend in with the others

The other what

I thought I was alone in this prison of my own mind

But aren’t we all

Just a little

Prisoners of ourselves