My condition,
Used,
To be,
Under,
A different,
Name,
But,
They changed,
It to something else,
Which,
Sounds,
A lot,
Like how,
I live,
I feel,
As though,
There are two,
Parts,
Of me,
Sometimes more,
Each fighting,
For centre stage,
Sometimes,
When one,
Personality,
Comes,
Through,
There’s a rose,
Haze,
And I transform,
Into someone new,
By,
The time,
I’m back,
To being me,
I forget,
A lot of things,
And I feel,
Like,
I’ve lost,
A part of myself,
The other,
Parts,
Of my personality,
Don’t seem
To be aware,
That they are,
Sharing a space,
Inside my head,
And each,
Of them hold,
Specific memories,
And knowledge,
That I can never,
Seem,
To obtain,
I feel,
Like a stranger,
To myself,
And sometimes,
To those around,
Me,
Because,
They might,
Have met,
Another part,
Of me,
That I don’t recall,
In the peach haze,
I sometimes,
Behave out of character,
And I become,
Unpredictable,
So they say,
My hand-writing,
Can change,
Depending,
On what,
Personality,
Is in control,
At that moment,
I sometimes,
Refer to myself,
As we,
And I get strange,
Looks from those,
Close to me,
I’ve been,
Told,
That I’ll make,
A full recovery,
I just need,
Help,
From,
Counselling,
To ease out,
Of the worst,
But,
That’s ok,
I don’t want,
To be stuck,
In this alien,
Rose haze much longer
Heather's Blog 