Jul 6
Dissociation Room
I don't feel safety anywhere—
jagged edges threatening
to bleed me out
with all the little cuts
they could give me.
Dissociation has returned
for the first time in months,
a soft drug
stealing breath
without offering space to exhale.
I'm haunted.
But I can't say it out loud.
I don't want you to know.
I don't want anyone to know.
Because what if saying it
makes it more real?
Every day feels laced with fear.
There's no exit.
I've built my walls so high,
I don't trust
anything anymore—
not even myself.
Afraid of self-sabotage.
Afraid of vulnerability.
I miss safety.
I miss being known.
Now I only hear echoes
of the place
that once held me.
And they say
I have to find it
in myself.