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Lacey Clark Apr 2020
I can curl up in a ball and shake and quiver. For days.
I can breathe in and breathe out toxic shame.
Paralyzed and skittish - like a stricken mutt.
My lungs feel sticky from interlaced, bright, and anxious evocations.
I am so familiar with this part of myself. I am not uncomfortable with this part of myself. This part who feels out of control and desperate for answers. Answers to a million questions - all interconnected.
Desperate for raw meaning and purpose.
Digging for a release and
immediate gratification.

Over time,
and after a process I am very familiar with,
find that tense knot and that trapped air below the surface,
and tend to everything inside.  
It takes a lot of warmth, rest, and compassion.
There's something really beautiful about enduring these uncomfortable moments I find myself in.
I feel the shift,
my cognitive distortions
working their way to clarity,
and then the beauty that emerges penetrates my life momentarily
Like rays of sun.

(This metamorphosis is something we do over and over and over. The awareness lies in the reflection we partake in when the 'storm has passed'.)
Therapy. My biggest tool.
Lacey Clark Feb 2020
love is
the friendly Atlantic ocean
a lotion that never fully rubs in
humid air

love permeates
like a leaky roof
honey on toast
Lacey Clark Feb 2020
cold blue skies
with crisp air and sun in my eyes
we all play in the warmth
and i feel like a painting on a wall
or a decorative vase with dry arrangements
people find themselves viewing me
i feel so mad
that im ductaped to a pedestal
that im nailed into a wall
that im the frame of a painting
Lacey Clark Jan 2020
I'm working through stuff.
It feels like untangling a necklace
after finding it in the dryer.

I keep writing about
working through stuff
without sorting much out.

Maybe I'm just playing with the stuff.
It's best to have a lighthearted dialogue
With your shadow.
Lacey Clark Jan 2020
This is all normal
Petting dogs and
Nodding at strangers
Holding the door open
Sometimes it makes me
Go underwater and cry
Where my tears blend in with
Sometimes I wonder why I’m
Wondering why
We want joy
I sit so naturally perched on
A tall naked tree branch
That’s in a grey sky
With a vague horizon
And quiet brisk air
Lacey Clark May 2019
My childhood
was the spin cycle
on high
and now the water is draining slowly
and the click of the machine after it settles
lets me open the door
Lacey Clark Apr 2019
I’m tangled up in a matrix of concurrent beliefs.
How do I hold one value right next to another at the same time in my heart?
How do I posture two opposing beliefs at once?
It’s like arm wrestling; a warm union but not pleasant until it’s settled. Our brain likes to have one answer.
Though.. here I am knowing that reaching out to you after all this time is both regress and progress.
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