Broken

Do you ever sit there and wonder if you're crazy?
Do you wonder if the things around you are real at all?
Or have you just created everything in your mind?
Are you actually living the life that you think you are?

Or are you laying somewhere,
catatonic from an accident or a drug bender gone wrong,
thinking of all that you miss, and locked in a dream that you cannot escape.

Has grief driven you crazy,
and you just keep diving deeper into the only world that makes any sense at all?

Or did the world make too much sense and break your brain,
shatter it so hard that you're fractured and arguing with yourself,
unable to find clarity?

Where there once was structure, now only chaos remains.
Where once you were whole, now there is only broken glass and empty space.

There once was a you, but now nothing remains.
A shell with a smile, two eyes and a nose.

All the mechanics are there.
It's still breathing.

​But now all it does it dream,
and try to make sense of the world,
through a mind that is unrecognizable and broken.