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Everything in me has been ripped to shreds,

Somehow I didn’t feel it, that’s the advantage

Of being internally dead,

Life evades me, my happiness is receding.

Losing touch with what once was, life has lost

It’s meaning.

No sight of re-ignition,

I know who I am, as for who I was? I have no recognition.

Remnants of who I was have been dilapidated, to never again be.

Tortured into submission was the woman in me.

Disparage and desolate have been my only keeper,

Permitting this perdition to take me in deeper.

Saturating every bit of me, confined to its abyss,

Captured in its inferno, feeling deaths kiss.

My body and spirit have lost their connection.

Was there ever an attachment? I have no recollection.

Was this written for me prior to conception?

And if so, do I have a chance for redemption?

Displaced is the woman I was, she was disassembled,

All I know is who I am, she and I no longer resemble.

I have vague memories of a time best compared to an

Embryo state,

Could it be that my doom had then befallen me and

This was pre-determined as my fate?

I’ve found traces of who I believe I may have been, it leads me

Only to infer,

That she and I were once one and the same, yet I don’t know her.

Did I go through something mind altering, where certain characteristics

Were deleted?

Was my past trauma so horrific leading my life to be depleted?

All I have is who I am, imperfect and incomplete.

Engulfed by this non-existent prelude of who I used to be.