This is written by me, an alter in a dissociative identity disorder system, writing about our narcissistic mother.

Within the shattered mirror,

Truth gets distorted.

Seeking a way to make it clearer,

The truth is fear-producing and horrid.

I seek an escape, a way to run.

But those inside plead with me to stay.

To trace back where this has begun.

But all I want to do is go away.

The voices reveal memories of pain,

Where our voice was not heard.

It was all about her pain and feeling,

We just listened and didn’t say a word.

Leaving us in a world of isolation.

We were so afraid of even speaking,

Our feelings, there was no consideration.

All the attention she was seeking.

She couldn’t see beyond her world of self,

We became her emotional slave,

She couldn’t see that we needed help,

We were just supposed to behave.

How do I break this pattern,

And give us a voice.

And stop believing that we don’t matter,

To set some boundaries, we make a choice,

To put ourselves first for once in our life,

To focus on our feelings and pain,

And resurrect a soul that has died.

And put together the shattered pieces that remain.

Connor