She doesn't like herself.
It's gone beyond control.
She likes herself a lot.
Too much.
The corners of her mind
Are brighter than they should be.
The shallows too shallow.
The deep-end, forcibly so.
She is not transparent,
Except when she is.
Her words can't express properly
That she doesn't know what's wrong with her,
But she knows she wants not to know.
To fix it,
Is to fix everything.
Paradoxically,
She thinks she thinks.
But then,
She thinks she doesn't.
She just doesn't know.
She is lost, but she knows
She is more found than most.
Her faith is an insect,
Trying to swim in a bowl of water.
It needs to be helped,
Drowning is imminent.
A hand to take it from the sea,
Would be an angel.
She doesn't think about this.
Any of this.
Until the dark is too dark.
Then the light comes.
And she forgets.
But sometimes,
The light seems so fleeting.

Needless to say, I've been going through some crap, and I have a hard time explaining exactly how, so here are some words that make less sense than well put-together sentences, and yet somehow make more sense.