the other one

Blank spells,she called them.
Had ignored them all this while.
She couldn't face the realisation,
that there was someone else inside her.
She was meek,a weakling.
The other one was headfast.
She could barely speak,
strongly aware of her lapse.
The other one came out,
in moments of agony.
When she couldn't express,
the other one would take over.
When she couldn't cry,
the other one would scream.
When she couldn't reason,
the other one would rebel.
The other one,
made her feel like a trespasser.
But how could she be one,
it was her body.
She felt herself tearing into two,often.
Emotionally depressed.
Expressively void.
She couldn't fathom,
what the other one thought.
Often blamed,
for things she hadn't done.
But how could she explain,
it was not her.
Her soul tore her apart.
The agony was too much for her frail mind.
She thought,she'd set it free.
And the other one,
could well,go die.



P.S.the above poem is strongly inspired from a novel called *Sybil* by Flora Rheta Schreiber about a young innocent woman,going through the trauma of housing sixteen multiple personalities.