541 souls call my body home.

541 souls make my brain work

541 parts; alters; headmates; facets; selves; fractures; fragments

541 people with feelings, dreams and trauma of their own

One body.  To feel and exist through all at once

One mind to keep stable, lucid, functioning.

No pay check,  We’re all just trapped here

In this disabled, flesh, cage.  541 lonely people in one hard to love body

In a hard to exist, too expensive to live, society

This world is broken. 

Not me.

I am happy when I dissociate

I am happy when I can step back and be with them.

I am happy without the Mask of Singlethood I have to wear for Externals to like me

I am happy with my internal worlds and my crew

I am happy without you, 

541 people love me

541 people show up for me

541 people are loyal to me

541 people 

Why should the ten people who broke my heart the worst in life matter at all

Who needs anyone outside when you have whole worlds inside

Who needs someone to physically hug them, tell them reassuring things about their existence?

Who needs to be kissed and told how often they are missed ?

Who needs external validation on a low mood day, that everything will be okay? 

Not me.  Not us. 

….right? 

….right?

….right….. We’re fine on our own. 

541 people have my back

541 souls that pull me back away from the seduction of Depression and her objectum-flirtation with bridges and cliffs and traffic flooded highways and interstates.

541 voices that are quick to reassure me when the External world is quick to shame and diminish me.

541 allies, lovers, and friends who choose to wake up with me every day to help me function

541 … and counting….