You are fast asleep
You are drifting through the darkness: a seemingly endless abyss from which there is no escape
There is nothing but the darkness: leagues and fathoms and feet of it
But you were a person once, you know, before you found yourself in this sorry state You had a name — perhaps you had several names — and thoughts of your own; feelings, too
You had friends A family, perhaps
You had a life
You might have had many lives
You are one, yet you are many Fragmented, your past dances behind your eyelids like shards of glass: sharp to the touch, and yet
Will you reach out to touch these broken bits and pieces of your past?
Do you dare?
