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She's shaking.
For the taking.
Swallowed in fog.
Connection is lost.
She's cut off
From herself.
She's cut off.
Can't get out.
There is no where but here.

"Disappear. Disappear."
She whispers.

"I am here. I am here."
She answers.

"Tell me." He says,
"Tell me all that you dread."

And her fears spoke louder
Than anything ever said.
Inspired from learning about polyvagal theory and the feeling of being "stuck" in the sympathetic state (fight/flight/freeze) or dorsal (collapse). Speaking about where youre at can help you bring back ventral state to the foreground, the beneficial state, the ability to have connectedness at ease.
Mica Light Aug 12
Poetry trapped
On the walls.
Elusive lips
Make me fall.
Catch me for all
That i am worth.

A penny here
A fraction there.
What can you spare?
I feel impaired.
I feel,

Like a silhouette
Of my own breath.
So many tests.
All wicked, no rest
As i search for my chest.


A mindset. A mentality.
A behaviour. A belief.

I must transcend so I can sleep.
Mica Light Jan 2018
I'm coming home soon
I promise you.

I almost there.
I am almost bare.

Cracking back open
Every part of myself.

Taking my love back down
From the shelf.

I miss you and I need you.
I'm coming home soon.

Cause I miss writing my soul to you.
A letter to myself. To missing writing. To coming home again. To clearing those blockages.
Mica Light Feb 2017
Who am I?
Why am I here?
What am I doing?
When is the big break?
Where should I be?
And how do I get there?
Mica Light Jan 2017
It came again.
Breaching any boundaries
I was able to build since
the last time.

It shook me down.
Reminding of rampageous
demeanor I had long thought
I abandoned.

I lost control.
Misplacing my mind
with no idea where
to find it.
Mica Light Sep 2016
There is no rain to chase.
What is lost is lost.

There is no time to be retained.
What is lost is lost.

There is no gaining back what's gone.
What is lost is lost.

I only keep the memories
that have been embossed.

My body's stitched together with this chaos.
This poem inspired by the words of Honest Musings:
"When we hold people close, we also carry their past and everyone they have loved. Their stitches are ours, and every time they open: we sew them up. Every time their memories bleed, we soak the blood with our being.
Like forgotten toys, people stay in the rusty corners of our mind until one day something reminds us of them again. With a terrifying quietness, a sense of nostalgia pierces through everything we have ever been. I wish more of us knew how to be good at forgetting."
Mica Light Jun 2016
Your lips
Are bliss
Upon which
I land so
With every kiss. <3

As the moon loves the stars, and
as the sun loves the sky, and
as the shorelines love the ocean,
I Love You.
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