“I wanted to be happy” The words crept from my lips like scurrying little spiders when their home disturbed amongst darkened cobwebs in an untouched dingy room Intrusive thoughts Dismaying salvation of pathologized compliance Masking behaviour for acceptance “Stop spinning in that chair- it’s annoying” Self expression became punishable Dismaying youth- retribution beyond reasonable understanding Belted and crying Please stop, it hurts Fearful avoidance Nothing feels safe Transmitting adulthood with repressed memories though awakened by medical emergency of your cat Navigating uncertainty since July; desperately attempting to understand inner workings of trauma brain Complex post traumatic stress disorder Medical diagnosis though intrusive thoughts still catastrophic Chronic pain with desolation Desperately craving the touch of another human Covid times; worsening depression combatting betraying myself with fathers abusive words while unproductively masquerading oversleeping Powerlifting self regulation though collapsing under the bar. If they wanted to talk to you They would make effort Though I still fawn my way to self acceptance After all; That’s what my parents taught me to do.
Sinking slowly down Into the silent darkness How far will I fall?
Fear, like an old friend, catches me in cold embrace freezing me in place.
Familiar unknown memories like faded scars half-remembered pain.
Shining silver streak, fine claws trace down the tear's path trailing bright rubies.
I will not recall, you who starves in solitude, after I'm awake.
Patiently you'll prowl, at the edge of every dream, waiting to break through...
or for me to fall, down into your arms again once more in your thrall.
This is another opening poem for a dream journal ...this one is the 2020 Edition... I realized I had never written a dream poem about a nightmare... I always focus on good dreams because that's what I have mostly.. I don't often have nightmares so I figured if there was one waiting for me it would get awfully lonesome and prowl about like a feral Beast that image was so spooky and irresistible... as was the Edward Scissorhands-like moment where the nightmare, in curious wonder, traces the tear trail down the cheek of the terrified Dreamer only to leave a bleeding **** behind because it's very nature is to frighten and cause pain... it has no fingers to touch with or words to speak... I am generally a very positive person so it was strange and interesting trying to write something creepy and dark it was a fun challenge and I think it turned out pretty well. >w<
They are more starved for Nature Then one can ever fathom; Oh, where is that secret Off they go in a cabin; that they may frequent All the noise and pollution It melts and floats away; Into life's little solution.
It's back to the plough of life so rough; They like the smithy toil day after day Their life may be starved, very tough, Oh, to listen to the wild loon's call. How it haunts them each day after day; How they stomach their bitter gall? Taking a wooden loon back to the city. Until that cabin is reached it is a pitty. When the wild calls; Good-bye city.
We who are born
"We who are born In country places Far from cities And shifting faces, Have a birthright No man can sell And a secret joy No man can tell" Eiluned Lewis