Someone, A Story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story written by someone who suffers from some form of psychopathy and multiple personality disorder.

Submitted: November 13, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 13, 2016



Someone, A Story.


There are no words, no such poetry, no way to describe the feeling of nothing.


Even the word, nothing, has meaning.


While, I, have no meaning.


But suddenly someone speaks.


“Your purpose is not to exist but to imitate”


So, I, The Chameleon, change.


I change when they tell me to.


But nobody physical is present.


The voices are mine, but not of the same affliction.


They help, they hinder, the stoke the tinder that is my unnatural emotions.


This is not poetry, this is not a song, this is not a manifesto.


This is a story.


There is no discernable beginning.


Right now, I’m in the middle.


I fear the end.


I don’t want to kill


I want to tell


I don’t want to torture


Those that don’t ask


But one of me, tells me to maim.


The others, tell me other things, one tells me how to lie.


One tells me the future,


It’s hard to believe,


Even for me




Now I can’t tell


Which one is the “me” that used to be




They don’t want help.


But one of me does


That one reaches through.


I hope the others don’t interrupt.


They are.


I am






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