I stood up and asked my mind if I was in control.

My mind said yes.

So I asked my mind how it was speaking.

It didn’t respond. Perhaps it hadn’t been talking at all.

My mind tested me.

I stood in the middle and moved my fingers, balanced myself.

I asked my mind if it was me.

My mind told me it wasn’t me it was them.

I asked if I controlled them they said no

I asked if I told them to say no they said no

 I asked them if they knew anything, then what I told them to know

They said yes.

I keep secrets from them all the time

I have to, you know?

But somehow they know everything

They hold it against me, shaming me, making me feel bad

I’m a slave to them, or maybe they’re a slave to me

But it tells me what to do and I do it

They edit what I think and filter my words

So maybe, this is them.

They’ve stopped me from feeling sadness

Sent me on a search

A search for feeling

But the more I try and escape it the more it follows me

I CAN’T HIDE ANYTHING FROM THEM EVER

THEY CONTROL ME

Am I my mind or is it just a product of my thoughts?

Do my thoughts… exist?

If I don’t confine them will they pollute my dreams?

Filling my life with dark thoughts

I stand up, and I fall down

It’s not allowing me to stand

Or I’m not allowing it to allow me to stand

Is my insanity just a distraction from what I realize can’t exist?

Why did I mold the truth in to such a lie?

And how did the lies turn to such truth?