My mind wanders off, abandoning my body.

It travels up and asks the Almighty why me, out of 99 others.

My head leaves my reason, and dreams of the impossible world which it calls Heaven.

I don't belong here, my mind declares, but we're here, my body cries.

I'm torn in two as such, and reality kicks the door open to laugh at the disfigurement.

I'm in pain on which no scar is apparent.

I'm butchered by my own psyche, and I rest in pieces.

I sometimes cry for help, but that's just my lips babbling separately.

Tears roll down, but that's just my eyes complaining by themselves.

I'm afraid that I might have to live like this for the rest of my life;

what if I don't glue myself back together by I'm 30? 40?

Aging suddenly scares the impatient me.

No human can help me, my mind ascertains.

My body kneels where it stood and prays,

deliver me.