(Note: Red is Dementia, Blue is me, purple is the both of us. I felt like posting a poem. we worked on it together, even though Dementia isn't a very poetic soul.)
With all that I've seen and all that I've done
My timelines are merging, becoming one.
I'm scared, I'm drowning, I can't even see
What's become her and what's still me.
This war, it seems, cannot be won.
Fantasy, reality, melt into confusion
all swirling together as part of my delusion.
I reach for the dark because the light makes me cry,
for it wrapped me in its wings and shaded my eyes-
Though not a friend; I continue in seclusion.
I've dug too deep, I've gone too far,
We don't even know who we are!
We're rooted in hate under a food chain
that starts with misery and ends in pain,
giving survivors tell-tale scars.
In the dark, all cats are grey-
Predators melt in the crowd of prey.
now you see me, now I don't-
sink or swim, I'd rather float-
at least I'd live another day.
One kills with a glance.
One kills given the chance.
One haunts you,
another flaunts you.
In the game, it's more a dance.
Are you going to run? are you going to hide?
fueled by your stupid human pride?
We are but pawns displayed on the board
pulled around with the tug of a cord,
Controlled in both body and mind.
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