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Impostor
Floating
In a world that should be familiar,
but isn’t.
I wonder…
If I’ll ever drift back
Watching
my hands move
as foreign puppets,
Dancing on their little strings
that I do not control
I wonder
if they’ll ever
break free
Words
come from my mouth
that I did not speak,
And I wonder
who is speaking them
Who is in my body
Not me

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I disassociate often, and I wanted to write a poem about how it makes me feel. It can be really exhausting and confusing somethimes.