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1.1k · Feb 2012
The Contention of Sanity
Michelle Long Feb 2012
I couldn't concentrate. The page of math homework was staring back at me; it was blurry and incomprehensible. Such a simple problem, yet it had seemed like rocket science at that moment. My mind was drawing a blank (which it'd seemed to do a lot of), and I had to rest. I'd hoped that maybe, just maybe I could wake up feeling extravagant and ready to tackle the homework, though, of course, I knew it wouldn't result like that. So let's just say I was being remotely lazy, committing to another episode of procrastination. But, I still found myself stacking my books and folders and things onto the mini table standing in front of my bed, and dozing off.
    Sleep was what I needed, to relax for once.
    Once fallen into a dream, I felt peaceful, like I was floating against a cooling wind and flying through clouds. Of course that all too quickly ended as the dream transited into the same, repetitive nightmare I'd had night after night a lot before then. The dreams consisted of nothingness, just blurs of hate and confusion, filling my mind and scaring me on many levels. The floating then turned to falling, sinking. This went on forever, it seemed, making my dream-stated mind want to hide, striving to wake up.

    And then I did. And it was all over. Just like that, it had happened many times. I never had thought much of it, considering I always forgot about it one minute after waking.
   The night following I had the same dream again. Yet this time it hadn't even given me even the faint happiness in the beginning-no, it went straight to the good stuff. And when I awoke, I was confused and frightened. It'd never hit me quite that hard before. And, I remembered it. Night after night after night, the dream kept coming back. Each new night it deepened and expanded, seeming to last longer than the one before. The nightmare frenzy went on for months, and I had had no idea what to do about it. I'd just hoped it'd straighten itself out given time.
    The only hope I had once captured in the inescapable, never-ending dreams was the eerie sounding of my alarm clock. It woke me up; it saved me from the nightmare abyss. The ambulance-sounding drone-which is enough to drive most people insane-was my savior, it stopped everything in its tracks, it ended the dream altogether and set me free. It felt great to wake up, getting away from the horrid dream world. Well, after I calmed myself down, at least.
    Throughout my days I was becoming even more timid than normal. I felt an unwanted, unseen presence around me. I couldn't pay attention, I could only panic. Hours would just fly by, and I would spend them staring at the wall, afraid to move, afraid to unlock myself into the room surrounding me.

    But, one day, after another sleepless night, something clicked in my mind and I woke up. I told myself I was being stupid, and that there was nothing there. I snapped out of the scared coma and breathed a little. It worked for the moment.
   I managed to content myself watching re-runs of a television show. I felt my eyes become heavy. I needed to sleep, I couldn't resist the urge. Nights before that particular day were restless. So, no matter how hard I fought to stay awake, it was no use.
   I felt my body being dragged across the ground by some great force. My feet began to burn, as faster and faster the force took me. Then my own two feet started moving without effort; they just took off. I felt a burning feeling take over my whole body this time. I screamed and struggled and dug and scratched for any possible grip I could obtain to pull myself away. There was nothing but darkness. I couldn't feel any object, I couldn't feel warmth or coldness, and I could not tell if I was in the air or on the ground. I was just being pulled by my own mind, forcing my feet to keep up with it. I suddenly felt like I was falling again. I was completely numb all the while, trapped by my own mind. Slight screeching noises emerged from behind me, then from above me, from all around me. The noises grew, getting louder and louder, turning into high-pitched screeches. The noises surrounded me. Bounded in my own invisible stance, I still couldn't feel a thing. The screeches became whispering voices, gutting and growling, circling me in. The sound was so horrible, I could feel my ear drums burst, it seemed. I couldn't bare it any longer, the pain was too intense. I found myself kneeling onto the ground, cupping my hands over my ears with fatal attempt to block the sound out.
   Then it all stopped.
    I looked around and found that the darkness had left in exchange for the setting of a room: my bedroom. Except, this room didn't feel like my room, it felt like a prison. I felt as unsafe as possible, even more-so as when I wasn't dreaming. I stumbled forward, feeling the objects around me to gain stamina from being so used to the nothingness. Slowly, steadily I crept towards the door, struggling to open it once I approached it. It wouldn't budge. I banged my fists against the door, tried the **** over and over, and screamed in attempt for someone to rescue me from the outside. It was no use. I broke down, falling to the ground, sobbing in fetal position. I felt so trapped. I had the idea that I was never going to get out, and the claustrophobic feeling I was getting as if the walls were closing in on me wasn't helping it. The walls seemed only a few feet away from touching each other then, as I remained in my place against the wall. I closed my eyes and breathed in, startling myself as I heard the droning call from out of the sky: "Beep-beeeeeep, beep-beeeeep, beeep, beeep, beeep..."
    And I sat up, breaking out into a sob, I felt so paralyzed.
   I spent that next day huddled at the corner of my bed. I had always liked sleeping there because it made me feel more safe and secure. But at that moment nothing felt safe or secure.
    My nightmares were controlling my life.
    Since weeks before that, I'd sensed things amongst me. I felt an orb of evil flow around me everywhere I went, which was why I couldn't calm down. I was sure that I was being haunted, but I had no idea how to fix it. I started going insane, as literal the term as possible. I'd sometimes talked to things that weren't there, screamed at them to leave me alone. I thought I'd seen bodies, and spirits. It was nonstop. I quit going out (even simply going outside), I just sat in my room for hours rocking myself back and forth.
    One night I'd lost it completely. I swore I saw a creature come from the window. It slithered down so easily, I was mesmerized. I snapped back into consciousness (as much as I could have) as its body scampered across the floor like a lizard, nothing ever thought possible to be seen through human eyes. Like something from a dream.
    My body began growing tense. It's only in my mind, I'm just hallucinating, that's it. I told myself as the creature inched forward. I couldn't escape its presence, I couldn't run, I couldn't scream, I couldn't move.
    As its face reached mine I could feel evil swarm around it. I closed my eyes and swallowed.
    In response, the creature let out droning scream... But the scream sounded more like it was coming from an ambulance. As soon as it let out, the thing was gone. Then...everything disappeared. Everything. The room went pitch black, and I could only feel my body suspended in the air. It felt like I was flying, but at the same time, I felt like I was falling.
    The screams became more organized and reachable, almost as if they were coming from a place so near to me. But I couldn't feel or see a thing. Louder, louder, louder they became, as, finally, light hit me.
    I opened my eyes quickly to a white abyss. I blinked and found that it was my molded bedroom wall staring back at me. I sat up in panic, and turned to my wailing alarm clock. It was morning time. I had just woken up.
The flaws of this are abundant and it may not make much sense to many of you -- I understand. This was written when I was a freshman in highschool, completely on the spot, and it was one of the first story(ish)  things I've written, so I'm afraid to let it go. Bear with me.
998 · Feb 2012
Under a Willow Tree
Michelle Long Feb 2012
Under a willow tree,
alone there I lay.
Beneath the setting sun,
across the shallow bay.

My routine is profound,
repeated the next day;
it's how I escape,
makes troubles go away.

As my thoughts unwind,
nothing meant to say,
I revaluate my life,
upon sunset of May.

Forever resting my head,
watching Sun's blinking rays,
nothing shall wake me,
falling into a daze.

Dreams of faded peace,
begin to make way.
Pearching upon a rock,
rests a beautiful jay.

Then the white bird,
lovely as it may,
turns a frightening color,
one of dark-gray.

Once shallow water ahead,
starts crashing green waves.
Sunset turns to night,
grass turns to clay.

Abruptly, I finally wake,
confusion starts to play.
Under a willow tree,
alone there I lay.
This was written a few years back, and it's one of the few pieces I'm content with.
749 · Feb 2012
Vampires
Michelle Long Feb 2012
Isolated air,
flowing over the tranquilized seas,
touching the gray, highest peaks,
to the vast city of trees.
You think as this you see,
that not a care there could be,
but beyond the darkened forests,
there's a creature with a plea.

Soundless sun,
wind breezing ever-so gently.
The great star begins to set,
and the sky starts to darken.
Amongst it looks harmless,
every bit of life lays to rest.
But if you listen closely now,
a sound of pain you will get.

Pitch-black surroundings.
Not a human could possibly see.
It's this time of the day,
where not a soul there would be.
Most are sleeping calmly,
while others burst into "life".
And through the meadows of leaves,
a new creature lives to fight.

Somber abyss,
when most choose to hide.
Keeping safe from apprehension,
hoping not to die.
All of the Creatures are out now,
together in dicerption they roam.
Tracking any piece of sufferable life,
the ones weak and alone.

Powerful ones,
they wait in the night.
They forever remain the ones
who will never again die.
To say they aren't devious,
would be the most frank of lies.
They feed apon the good ones,
and through the night they seem to *fly
This was one of the first poems I've written, nearly four years ago. Please ignore the numerous flaws.
743 · Feb 2012
You're Still Gone
Michelle Long Feb 2012
Together we stand,
Making up the snow-white abyss.
Our souls, alike, become one.
Then I realize how only a memory is this.
And how the love I once felt is gone.

Alone now, only I stand,
The painful nothingness that surrounds.
My soul and body seem forever apart...
Consciousness returns-and so I remember...
What has brought me here from the start.

If only I could see you one las time...
In presence, apart fom only in mind.
With helpless hope I search again.
Though I know nothing is all I will find;
No life is left; my existance seems dead.

Maybe the memories of you that are in my heart
Are enough to keep me strong...
But when I realize, in the world around me, you're gone,
I break down...I just can't go along...
I suffer when I let myself know we're really apart.

Day apon night I continue to endure this...
Sometimes I wonder if you too can't bare,
Or if the white-abyss finds you as well.
Would you too have been there?
Is this pain something we share?

I force myself back to happiness;
Into the wonderful, safe abyss.
Yet this time when I begin to dream...
I see the truth I needn't to miss;
And I just can't make true this wish.
I wrote this years ago when I had no idea what love even was.
577 · Feb 2012
Voices
Michelle Long Feb 2012
Walk through this park, a stranger you see.
Pass my direction and a stranger you will be.
On this darkened, docile day,  in which your every fear has come to play,
There's not a person who bares to stay, not word they could dare say,
That could make the growing fears scamper away.
So with your mind, they continue to feed, to play.
Deeper in this frightening forrest, the voices begin to laugh and shout,
As you pass the shivering bushes, the  leave-less trees, you gain no doubt.
That the voices are all alive, hungry, and out,
How they choose to live in this growing drought
You loose common-sense as your curiousness sets out and runs free,
Pushing you outward, making you continue through the fallen leaves.
You wonder if to proceed would be right,
Everything feels wrong about this lonely night,
Voices surround you: those of evil and hate, those who will fight,
They circle you in with eager force, as together they quickly elite.
Falling down, you feel as if you will drown,
You want to scream; you try, but no sound.
Running away as fast as you can, the voices too chase and begin to rebound.
You escape through the branches and hide behind trees, dirt and mounds.
Breathing quickens, eyes burning red,
Fighting not curiousness, but death instead.
Pain they send and you question yourself, wondering if it's just in your head,
You see  in the corner, behind the shrunken willow tree, a body -- it's dead.
Your body is now apart from your mind,
In confusion, this you soon find.
The voices, which now feed upon the body that lay, seem to have once been kind,
But now they're monstrous, attacking beasts, as you watch with your soul unbined.
You can't stop them, they only want more.
Now you understand, the body was once yours.*

-----------~~~-----------
"as together they quickly elite."* makes absolutely no sense; I know. This was written in middle school, and I have no idea what I was thinking. I might have been simply desperate for a word that rhymed with "fight".
This was written nearly four years ago and has many flaws, but something inside of me just cannot let it go.
523 · Feb 2012
Forever
Michelle Long Feb 2012
You told me “forever”,
and I thought it was true
I had hoped it meant forever we'd remain--
together, forever, me and you

But what does “forever” mean, I questioned-
until the end of time were you mine?
You could easily reassure me it meant even longer
So I quit searching an answer; I figured all was fine

We began to slip away from that day;
I knew Forever was approaching us
I had quit hoping and waiting for us to change
A dishonest shine formed your eyes
Still, you were never there, always away
You carelessly looked past my cries,
Secretly returning to her -- I wasn’t aware

Then you threw me away, and I found out of the lies
And that the “love” you gave was merely a disguise
I now know that in your eyes, my love,
my heart’s only paying its dues, ripping in two
I’ve found that to you, forever means --
until you’ve found someone new…
This too was written before I had any clue what love really was, years ago.
513 · Feb 2012
Lost
Michelle Long Feb 2012
Grotesque, decrepit halls
Filled with livid porcelain dolls
Staring down upon us all
Watching as we fall

Hallways with scent of death
Make us forget to breathe even a breath
Our apprehension they test
To have ever entered, we regret

These pathways we lament
Walls stained with a blackened tint
Of directions, they give us hints
So, it's the wrong way we've went

Winding labyrinth, crawling on forever
Lost and hopeless, we tremble
The minds behind this are cryptic and clever
Demented on the highest of levels

Narrow and eerie is this pit
Upon the walls, shadows hit
Moving violently in a monstrous fit
Onto our corpses, words of hatred they spit

In this hell of pain and fright
It would be ****** to attempt a fight
But they're stronger, we lose our sight
Somehow seeing even less light

Lost in this cold, confusing world
We do nothing but sit and wait on the floor
With no remembrance of anything from before
Searching, we lose acquirement of anything more
This was written over three years ago.
510 · Feb 2012
Night of Darkness
Michelle Long Feb 2012
...Darkness of night
Nightmares decending
Creatures calling
Opening facades; pretending
Falling again, prawling
Fighting, clawing
Forever searching,
Screaming, painful sounds

Sounds painful, screaming
Searching forever,
Clawing, fighting,
prwling, again falling
Pretending; facades opening
Calling creatures
Decending nightmares
Night of darkness...
This was written three years ago.
433 · Feb 2012
Midnight Bird
Michelle Long Feb 2012
Tiny midnight bird
                         alone in the sky,
                           resting after it's morning fly.
                       It begins to sing
                               a beautiful cry;
                                     preaching sigh.
                              Again,
                      ­ midnight bird,
                       flies past us,
                   flies past the sky,
                 to nest in the trees.
                    We wonder just why
                      he still cries
                        and flies
                          alone,
                       every day,
               upon every night,
             is he in pain,
          does he feel such fright?
             He, a beutiful creature,
                without a care,
              goes everywhere
                      even
                still alone
                   he sits,
                  wihtout a plan?
                      Possibly he has many,
                  he too could look upon-
                              look apon us below.
               He might think
          opposite thought,
                           Together,
                               why such?
                                   Why not alone?
                 Happier we would be
                 if we were like he.
This was written nearly four years ago. I don't know what I was thinking.

— The End —