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jill_1Poems
No need for shallow chest breath I am safe I can breathe through my belly Deep, becoming regular Soothing, smoothing, slowing No need for organised thought I am shielded I can relax into this place Calm, becoming gentle Softening, swaying, sliding No need for clock watching Dali time only I can exist, chrono-sheltered Now, becoming ageless   Melting, muting, morphing Here… A door with round window Mellowing to Renoir-lens Glossy, smudgy, charm Hobbit-style architecture Familiar, shire-y, amiable Lit warm and soft A brown carpet bag Caressing the rich pile Sturdy, salvaged, true Tardis-like inner structure Dependable holder, infinite For weights and woe Smooth, even, stone stairs Descending in timeworn strength Secure, bendless, cool Delivering, guiding journey-way To ease and mend I tender-lift my bag Zip open for a prize On every step Each stair a healing game The bag a hungry friend To hold my heavy goods And bare them strong for me As I descend Step one is for fear Two for screaming Three for ache     with blurred-out meaning Four for panic Five dark-dread     that slither-twists through sleep in bed If guilt is six Then shame is seven     long blame-soaked school without a lesson Eight for pleading Nine for weeping Ten for wounds, and burns, and bleeding The bag now zipped, trapped weights and woe, is set down gently, as I go All grateful heart, and kindess-eyed Door opens as I walk outside
0
Oct 13, 2024
Oct 13, 2024 at 1:28 AM UTC
Visualisation for returning gently
No need for shallow chest breath I am safe I can breathe through my belly Deep, becoming regular Soothing, smoothing, slowing No need for organised thought I am shielded I can relax into this place Calm, becoming gentle Softening, swaying, sliding No need for clock watching Dali time only I can exist, chrono-sheltered Now, becoming ageless   Melting, muting, morphing Here… A door with round window Mellowing to Renoir-lens Glossy, smudgy, charm Hobbit-style architecture Familiar, shire-y, amiable Lit warm and soft A brown carpet bag Caressing the rich pile Sturdy, salvaged, true Tardis-like inner structure Dependable holder, infinite For weights and woe Smooth, even, stone stairs Descending in timeworn strength Secure, bendless, cool Delivering, guiding journey-way To ease and mend I tender-lift my bag Zip open for a prize On every step Each stair a healing game The bag a hungry friend To hold my heavy goods And bare them strong for me As I descend Step one is for fear Two for screaming Three for ache     with blurred-out meaning Four for panic Five dark-dread     that slither-twists through sleep in bed If guilt is six Then shame is seven     long blame-soaked school without a lesson Eight for pleading Nine for weeping Ten for wounds, and burns, and bleeding The bag now zipped, trapped weights and woe, is set down gently, as I go All grateful heart, and kindess-eyed Door opens as I walk outside
Related music Pixies – Monkey gone to heaven, Doolittle (1989) ©2024
#triggers#dissociation#fear#calming#healing
jill_1
Written by
jill_1
Australia
Oct 13, 2024
Oct 13, 2024 at 1:28 AM UTC
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