| Her Island |
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| Sitting all alone, In a room full of people, They know her story, But they don�t understand, She�s sitting all alone, An island of pain, And misery, She wishes she could go, Away from here, To her island of safety, And peace, This island is her home, A place just for her, No one can come, Unless she invites them in, To the world, she�s still present, Still sitting in the room, Surrounded by people, But she isn�t there, She retreated, To her island, To be safe and loved, Her face goes blank, And her eyes gloss over, But she is happy, Because she�s on her island again. 10/20/03 |
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| This poem is talking about how it feels to me right before I disassociate. I was trying to describe the feelings of bliss and longing that occur before I black out. I normally just stay where I am and sort of veg out for a little while until awareness decides to come back |
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