I fight an invisible battle. Something that nobody but me can see. It lives in my mind, and it eats my brain like a meal in the middle of the night. But it's not just the middle of the night, it's the middle of the day, and the first thing in the morning. It's every five minutes. Sometimes it feels like every five seconds. When I see pictures of myself as a child, I see light. I see purity and promise. I see the girl, but I feel her more. Her essence, and her dreams. She feels like my first language. A native tongue, sitting inside of me. My tongue still moves like her, but my mind my mind my mind, moves differently. How do I explain what happened inside of me? I can't even begin to touch the complexity. I didn't expect to feel like I was wearing my mother's skin, all of a sudden. My mother, my mirror, cracked cleanly in half. And there I am, sliding my hand across the glass, catching on the harsh corner, and staring at my own self. I write like the crack is beautiful, and like it makes me better. And sometimes, on a sunny day, it does. But more often than not, it becomes the battle inside my brain that I am bad. Inherently dark. Destined to hurt everyone. Deep inside, I wonder if a mother is a dream I will see. Somewhere along the way, my brain decided to expect I will fall apart, in order to keep it together. I fear that my family and her friends, will feel triggered just by looking at me. As if I have become her stand in. A ghost. I didn't know that watching someone want to die, would turn into this. I'll be fine, but Im also this.
