Dissocaition is the armour my mind
and body so desperately clings too.
Wrapping myself in a hazy dream,
The real me only seen by few.

My laughter muffled, my cries suffocate,
A skill I so perfectly cultivate.
The emotions escape me as I try to feel,
All human experience does not feel real.

In the peripheral of my vision, a careful
Considerate figure,
Costing up the expense of the life I’ve created,
My time is running out