Yearning for Myself

It's stuck so deep inside of me
This gnawing clawing aching mess
I don't trust what I feel
Is it real
I can't tell
Which pieces of this crumbling whole belong to me
And which were lashed in place
Which grew to fill the space
Between the happy, easy moments
Pushing them apart
Till I can't find the next
Till I can't find the start
Or the end
Or a steady foothold in between
Is this me
How much of my self must the sadness fill
What percentage of days must my soul feel ill
Before perception is reality
Before this unrecognizable darkness is what makes me me
Where is my meter, my experimental control
What measure do I have to determine "normal"
I could look a year back
Could try two, maybe five
No matter my reference, the answer's contrived
I don't know and I won't know
I just am

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