The soul that was once whole, must spilt for the survivor to survive. For the fighter that must keep fighting.
It must spilt to find peace. To end the pain. To free the memories. To untangle the truth from lies. To unwind the reality of one’s mind to find another. To find a place to hide and live.
It must spilt to keep living. To see the dawn of a new day.
But I am no later here. They have taken over. There no pieces left to spilt.