Some days you just feel like writing…the fragmented self

Possible trigger warning. …… an experiential poem of sorts…

The Fragmented Self.

Big topic.

so it seems.

yet, not!

so vast.

Just split

and in pieces.

Not coherent

Not joined up.

Just split.

Why is that?

Well in earlier life, stuff happened, big and small stuff, stuff, that wasnt attended too, stuff that was too big to integrate or make sense off.

stuff that was small, but habitual.

Pieces of self were not seen, heard or noticed enough

for them to be grounded, accepted, held, in a safe space.

so instead they split,

and dissociated

and formed wee islands on which they live their seperate lives.

*stuff =trauma.


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