I surprise myself with my resilience I still breath in toxic ambience I wonder if brains alter with what I face jumping from manic to depressive phase I analyse what’s inaccessible see blindness, hear the inaudible Then I see shadows that follow me It’s so familiar, but that’s not me I die several deaths, but cannot flee I just know it’s not me, it’s not me
Creative Experiments and More 
I constantly have to remind myself that I am not my depression, not my PTSD, not my anxiety. This poem speaks to me.
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Yes. We are not our mindsets, much more than that. Glad you could relate to it.
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I imagine many who read your poem can identify with it. Good work!
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This was lovely Reena, I enjoyed it a lot.
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Thank you, Jim!
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one good one bad
carbon
mono or dio
oh oh!~
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Very evocative poetry.
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Thank you, Sadje!
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You’re welcome
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