Detached

He mimes his mouth and words fall out,

But his voice doesn't sound quite like his own

Or even the way he usually talks.

Who is this stranger that speaks for him?

Was he ever really there?

He shifts his limbs as he sits or stands, 

But his body is out of place

Rummaging for the right spot to relax,

Never nestled in comfort behind his skin.

Was he ever really there?

He shifts his eyes to look all around,

But his vision is vacant, almost sceptical…

The world is tinted behind a glazed lens

Peering through a window that's blurred at the edges.

Was he ever really there?

He doesn't feel like himself,

But he can't come back.

Every reflection reveals a mystery,

He scans for signs of me

Behind this drunk stray.

Was he ever really there?

Helpless, defenceless,

He's a lonely wanderer,

Severed from his body.

He knows he's not there.

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This a poem about the struggles of depersonalisation and derealisation. It’s often a feeling of being not only dissociated from reality, but also your own body. It’s a truly terrifying experience. I’ve encapsulated how it felt for me on the rare occasions I have experienced these symptoms. They often overlap with other mental illnesses such as depression and anxiety, but they also exist as their own distinctive disorder (for medical information about these, please visit Dissociative disorders - NHS (www.nhs.uk)).