I am dead but I’m still breathing.

Smells of lilac transport me to a different time, one when I was still alive.

The silky feel of my skin in the shower reminds me of my innocence.

Sadly all things must end.

The cold packs a punch and my mind reverberates trying to recall the time my innocence was no longer mine.

This fight it happens often.

I am clean but I am dirty.

My mind is mine but it is not.

Some say deep breaths.

Some say break a sweat.

None of these things will cure me.

I’ve tried and all it does is lead me to the bathroom.

The bathroom where I can travel to a time when things were different.

The bathroom where I can cry into myself, and the water wipes away my tears.

The bathroom where I try to bring myself back to life, like the lilac in the spring.

I am dead, but I’m still breathing.