The reality of D.I.D

Yelling, screaming, why won’t it stop?,
Emotions that pour rapidly over the top,
Of her uncontrollable mind.
Others just glare from a distance because they don’t understand the petrifying truth,
As she races to the edge of that crumbling roof,
And wishes that she could just plummet to the ground below.
Six individuals in one broken being,
Can you save them all? No, neither can she, all she can do is shout and call,
For the alters to slowly fade away.
A nineteen year old woman singing ‘night night’ lullabies,
Can you imagine it? I guess not because you’re too busy with those blooded ties,
That you tighten around her fragile throat.
Days forgotten, chunks of time that disappear with the host, 
As she fearfully believes that she is a ghost,
Staring in from the outside of her confusing life.
Dissociative identity disorder is what the psychiatrists say,
But all she can do is defensively lay,
Calling out for your assistance each day.