Underoverwhelmed

I loose myself some days and get caught in the web of untime. There is not real nor fake there is just.
Sometime cuaght between two different well three different people. which one is real? Are they all real each part of the other.
I can be mom a student a writer and get lost in all of them. But then there is the other side that gets lost in me.
when the clock stops ticking and the wall becomes so fainting that i stare at it for hours not even thinking about it.
in darkness i loose mself. unable to move or to move anyting else. a fog.
unmotivated, unable to be or do anything except that wall. so..
now i am once again left to restart the forgets and remember to turn it and clean and laundry and focus and become. something.
but who with are these shared who really cared to hear bout the wall to which i find so interesting.
no one.
just me and the wall.
but the Wall cant write, that would just be silly
so there fore i write there behind and scatted. begging pleading with God to get to the other side of this Wall. face down i pray for the Lord to get me through while i do the work and he does the rest.
the wall.
is the wall meant to crumble? something to which i can not fix, or stare to keep it stright.
if your promise to not tell i will share the secret of this wall.
it is a liar. it is perceived to be white and clean and strong but really it has been painted over so many times that it is now a foot thicker than when it first was born i mean put up and so I cant trust the wall.
I am a liar, painted over so many times that I only look and am perceived as the people look-in on to me.
I am liar. false and untrue. this thing makes me this way and i fall to its will. daily thinking thinking thing about it, it never goes away.
you dont love me thing, you dont.
broken i sit at the wall looking for something i will never find.
peice.