Therapy Bits

I wake to a name I don’t remember choosing,
a voice that fits like borrowed skin.
The mirror tilts—faces flicker,
one smiles, one hides, one won’t begin.

The morning hums with overlapping thoughts,
echoes in an unfamiliar room.
A thousand hearts in one small chest,
all beating out of tune.

In a haze of confusion, I wander between,
realities stitched by trembling seams.
Each step uncertain, yet somehow known—
a chorus walking through my dreams.

They call it fracture, they call it split,
but I have learned another view:
each piece protects what once was hurt,
each carries something true.

Still, the world demands a single name,
a single face to wear each day.
I smile, pretending I am whole,
while inside, we find our way.

And maybe healing isn’t fusion,
nor silence in the storming sea—
but learning to let every voice
breathe, and simply be.

RDP SATURDAY: HAZE