Can you still see.. the heart of me?

As soon as I get a handle on what I'm doing and where I'm going with my life, my past comes creeping back up on me and I'm left answering for actions and words that are nothing more than ghosts. And it's hard to be sure of how I really feel about anything right now. Past, present, future. It's all a jumbled mess that I can't make sense of.

A jigsaw puzzle torn apart and thrown up in the air, only for half of the pieces to come down.

How am I supposed to put this back together?
Is it even possible?
It hardly seems so.

Because I can't even hold onto dreams anymore, much less reality.

Things I wanted, all changed.
Prospects, endeavours, all lost.

No replacements. No upgrades.
Nothing.
Just gone..

I'm not even sure when or why it happened, if they were taken from me or given away willingly.
I can't be sure.

And so I'm left with writing my nothings into a notebook on my grandparents' couch, seemingly having left the City of Certainty and arrived in Wackadoo Land.

I have a mother who has long since checked out of Adulthood and opted to hitch hike her way back to adolescence with every bottle of booze and coke dealer she can flag down.
I have a father I've never gotten to see the true side of.
And a boyfriend I don't even really understand.

But I do nothing about it. Why?
It can't be out of comfort, can it?
I've never been so uncomfortable in my life.

Familiarity?
Maybe, but doubtful.
I find nothing familiar here, where my ground is always shifting.

I figure I'm just familiar with being uncomfortable all the time.

I know I'm somewhere in this body, however deep down. I can see myself in these eyes some days when I look into the mirror. But most of what is here isn't me at all.

I've hidden myself so well, not even I can find me.