#hypervigilance - Hello Poetry

Long you've been deceived and tormented. In vain. It stands open - you had what it takes. At last, continue onward. The final lock is shattered. You will make no mistake, no falter, precise and swift. The way your grit foretold. But be on guard and keep your rapt concentration - your vigilant heart - to close the trail with no lapse. It's all you ever wanted. It's all within your grasp. It's all that ever mattered. It's how you’ll stay entrapped.

0

Oct 2, 2024

Oct 2, 2024 at 7:34 AM UTC

LemonBlack

Consumed

Long you've been deceived and tormented. In vain. It stands open - you had what it takes. At last, continue onward. The final lock is shattered. You will make no mistake, no falter, precise and swift. The way your grit foretold. But be on guard and keep your rapt concentration - your vigilant heart - to close the trail with no lapse. It's all you ever wanted. It's all within your grasp. It's all that ever mattered. It's how you’ll stay entrapped.

15

Judging my safety Like collapsing sandcastles Rough-built at high tide Feeble foundations Based on assumptions Freak waves waiting Only recently I learnt that not everyone Always feels afraid Turn gently inward To ask whether I’m okay Quietly observe The body holds the answers Truer than the pliant mind

0

Nov 27, 2024

Nov 27, 2024 at 3:05 AM UTC

jill_1

Listening to my body

Judging my safety Like collapsing sandcastles Rough-built at high tide Feeble foundations Based on assumptions Freak waves waiting Only recently I learnt that not everyone Always feels afraid Turn gently inward To ask whether I’m okay Quietly observe The body holds the answers Truer than the pliant mind

14

Ah shiny approval, Warm and soothing on the skin, Absorbed like a lizard, When one is hypervigilant.

0

Mar 3, 2021

Mar 3, 2021 at 5:37 AM UTC

Jason_R_Michie

Approval

Ah shiny approval, Warm and soothing on the skin, Absorbed like a lizard, When one is hypervigilant.

4

i do not feel safe on the fifth floor with all the windows locked and two turns of the deadbolt don't forget the chair under the door i do not feel safe walking home from the grocery store in this horribly gentrified neighborhood at 4pm on a sunny saturday afternoon i do not feel safe handing over my clothes to someone else i know they have to be washed i've gone too long already but i bite my lip until my belongings are back in my line of sight i do not feel safe alone in zoom office hours with my camera off how can i be hurt through a screen? but it never reassures me i do not feel safe when the electrician comes to fix the circuit i called it an electric circle he does not look at me that way the way that makes me sit in the backseat of my own mind but i cringe when he looks at me at all they call it hypervigilance vigilance from latin vigilare "be watchful" i am watchful, watchful, watchful maybe that's why i cant fall asleep.

0

Apr 24, 2021

Apr 24, 2021 at 8:18 PM UTC

noahtheboy

i do not feel safe

i do not feel safe on the fifth floor with all the windows locked and two turns of the deadbolt don't forget the chair under the door i do not feel safe walking home from the grocery store in this horribly gentrified neighborhood at 4pm on a sunny saturday afternoon i do not feel safe handing over my clothes to someone else i know they have to be washed i've gone too long already but i bite my lip until my belongings are back in my line of sight i do not feel safe alone in zoom office hours with my camera off how can i be hurt through a screen? but it never reassures me i do not feel safe when the electrician comes to fix the circuit i called it an electric circle he does not look at me that way the way that makes me sit in the backseat of my own mind but i cringe when he looks at me at all they call it hypervigilance vigilance from latin vigilare "be watchful" i am watchful, watchful, watchful maybe that's why i cant fall asleep.

36

There is an ancient city, buried deep in bone, where, on the ramparts, shivers a sentinel alone— Blue-lipped and hunched, they don a crooked helmet, hot breath a fleeting cloak for cheeks, chapped and earnest. With stiff limbs dressed in dented, brittle armor, all night they fight the long-blink with valor. Beneath each black-inked sky, they’ll watch, they’ll persist; though, would that they could rest, they—no, they must resist! For they were born first, the eldest and the heir, and borne inherent is the vigil, a shield without a spare. Thus, they will stand guard, o’er the young ones, heedful that they might sleep safe, tucked in bed, peaceful. We are the ancient city, buried in our bones where, on the ramparts, shivers a sentinel alone—

0

Oct 24, 2025

Oct 24, 2025 at 8:36 PM UTC

deepblueck

Night Watch

There is an ancient city, buried deep in bone, where, on the ramparts, shivers a sentinel alone— Blue-lipped and hunched, they don a crooked helmet, hot breath a fleeting cloak for cheeks, chapped and earnest. With stiff limbs dressed in dented, brittle armor, all night they fight the long-blink with valor. Beneath each black-inked sky, they’ll watch, they’ll persist; though, would that they could rest, they—no, they must resist! For they were born first, the eldest and the heir, and borne inherent is the vigil, a shield without a spare. Thus, they will stand guard, o’er the young ones, heedful that they might sleep safe, tucked in bed, peaceful. We are the ancient city, buried in our bones where, on the ramparts, shivers a sentinel alone—

28

the moon bares its jagged mouthful of tombstone teeth but its fearsome snarl is lost to my eyes for its sacrilegious white light cannot penetrate through the looming canopy of gnarled old trees i raise my rusted lantern high green glass panels protect the flickering flame glowing yellow eyes glare out, reflected in the rays of my lantern's light, but i do not fear or flee i know now that beasts are ahead, in my path and now that i am aware of their presence they cannot ambush me from back the way i came the howls echo through the mountains before me the wolves expect an easy feast but i will not be dinner

0

Jan 29, 2022

Jan 29, 2022 at 3:40 PM UTC

cain-arkay

i know my way

the moon bares its jagged mouthful of tombstone teeth but its fearsome snarl is lost to my eyes for its sacrilegious white light cannot penetrate through the looming canopy of gnarled old trees i raise my rusted lantern high green glass panels protect the flickering flame glowing yellow eyes glare out, reflected in the rays of my lantern's light, but i do not fear or flee i know now that beasts are ahead, in my path and now that i am aware of their presence they cannot ambush me from back the way i came the howls echo through the mountains before me the wolves expect an easy feast but i will not be dinner

13

The Echo: 10 to 0 10. The sun is a witness with a white, unblinking eye. I button my shirt to the chin, a fabric cage. Every stitch a small rule I did not agree to but obey. 9. I watch the others. They spill their lives onto the pavement like water. I carry mine like a glass filled too full— steady, steady, or it touches the rim. 8. A siren calls three blocks away. My blood hears it first. The sound doesn’t arrive— it remembers me. 7. A bird’s shadow crosses the ground. For a second, I am already elsewhere. A blur. A correction. Something crossed out lightly. 6. I see the black boots before the rest. Polished enough to return my outline. The air thickens. I learn how much space a breath actually needs. 5. The question never forms. It leans. A hand near a pocket. A look that inventories. My ancestors gather in my throat and tell me to be quiet. 4. That clean light is closer now. It shows the dust. It shows my pulse knocking where it shouldn’t. 3. Silence gains weight. It settles like a damp coat. Somewhere, a screen searches for permission to stop. 2. The exit sign glows. I don’t trust it. There is no out— only forward, narrowed. 1. The stamp is lifted. Its shadow passes over my hands. Rubber. Wood. Ink waiting. I offer what I have practiced offering. 0. Nothing ends. That’s the trick. The clock continues. The crowd adjusts. I remain— slightly misaligned with the day, waiting to see if the mark appears, or if I will be asked again to prove I was ever here.

0

Jan 23

Jan 23, 2026 at 10:56 AM UTC

Doriangrayisme

Ten to one

The Echo: 10 to 0 10. The sun is a witness with a white, unblinking eye. I button my shirt to the chin, a fabric cage. Every stitch a small rule I did not agree to but obey. 9. I watch the others. They spill their lives onto the pavement like water. I carry mine like a glass filled too full— steady, steady, or it touches the rim. 8. A siren calls three blocks away. My blood hears it first. The sound doesn’t arrive— it remembers me. 7. A bird’s shadow crosses the ground. For a second, I am already elsewhere. A blur. A correction. Something crossed out lightly. 6. I see the black boots before the rest. Polished enough to return my outline. The air thickens. I learn how much space a breath actually needs. 5. The question never forms. It leans. A hand near a pocket. A look that inventories. My ancestors gather in my throat and tell me to be quiet. 4. That clean light is closer now. It shows the dust. It shows my pulse knocking where it shouldn’t. 3. Silence gains weight. It settles like a damp coat. Somewhere, a screen searches for permission to stop. 2. The exit sign glows. I don’t trust it. There is no out— only forward, narrowed. 1. The stamp is lifted. Its shadow passes over my hands. Rubber. Wood. Ink waiting. I offer what I have practiced offering. 0. Nothing ends. That’s the trick. The clock continues. The crowd adjusts. I remain— slightly misaligned with the day, waiting to see if the mark appears, or if I will be asked again to prove I was ever here.

61

Peripheral movement— though imagined, I scream in terror.

0

Nov 15, 2025

Nov 15, 2025 at 12:49 PM UTC

Darksoul

Hypervigilant

Peripheral movement— though imagined, I scream in terror.

3

the alarm blares but she’s already awake, halfway dressed for the day, ahead as she always is, fully draped in fawnery, self-silvered mirrors, long-tarnished her smiled baubles concealing the first lie she ever told when the alarm blared

0

May 5

May 5, 2026 at 3:26 AM UTC

deepblueck

fawnery

the alarm blares but she’s already awake, halfway dressed for the day, ahead as she always is, fully draped in fawnery, self-silvered mirrors, long-tarnished her smiled baubles concealing the first lie she ever told when the alarm blared

11

I linger in the shadows, rehearsing every line of my prose, starving for kindred to stay long enough to be mine, while burying the wires of my seemingly accidental coincidences. The wisest and most solicitous beings must drag their pawns across the board. Checkmate. I built my realm with careful formulation The wicked crime to be committed: forcing spirits in a causal nexus of maneuvers. I hide the scars that I have scattered on my heart as a child. The vicious rejections of my being. That is the architect of my everlasting scheming: the brutal concealment of a desire to be loved wholly. Yet you unraveled my soul and saw right through me, made up your mind long before to stay, and played the puppet for my sanity without me realizing. With a wide, knowing smile on your face— you memorized the choreography of my strategy, you knew I only care.

0

4d ago

May 31, 2026 at 11:58 PM UTC

ilovearcher11

Nexus

I linger in the shadows, rehearsing every line of my prose, starving for kindred to stay long enough to be mine, while burying the wires of my seemingly accidental coincidences. The wisest and most solicitous beings must drag their pawns across the board. Checkmate. I built my realm with careful formulation The wicked crime to be committed: forcing spirits in a causal nexus of maneuvers. I hide the scars that I have scattered on my heart as a child. The vicious rejections of my being. That is the architect of my everlasting scheming: the brutal concealment of a desire to be loved wholly. Yet you unraveled my soul and saw right through me, made up your mind long before to stay, and played the puppet for my sanity without me realizing. With a wide, knowing smile on your face— you memorized the choreography of my strategy, you knew I only care.

20