Still There

I wrestled with you again last night. One time in my life I dreamed at you with open eyes. Now you crawl into my nightmares and resume the lead the role. They say we struggle not against flesh and blood, but you are flesh and blood. And it is so much more.

Just hours ago I desperately sought freedom from your vicious hold. Mute chase scenes, violent struggles, and presumable fears tie me up every time you jam your foot into the door of my subconscious. And sadly last night you succeeded. Those people fell victim to your deceitful conniving ways and I was left voiceless and unbelieved. 

You died years ago but your voice still echoes and your face still reflects predatory devastation. Your clones stalk me challenging my spirit. What do you still represent in me? My God, why is he still allowed near me? I have named him: Coarse Reality And Imposing Guilt. No, you will not destroy me.

You put up a wickedly admirable fight last night. So today I will fight back and reclaim the lands you stole.  

hopeful

she is at winter’s mercy. a fool nonetheless. caught in the season of bitterness, lifelessness, and hopelessness, the snow deserts stretch the length of her heart. what lies beneath is only dormant. a light and steady pulse faithfully remains undetected by the grieving eye. she is blistered by winds, numbed by cold, with bones aching for warm light, warm blood. here she is again, crying. icicles on her cheeks and puffs of icy air convince her she is still alive. wake the sleeping heartbeat. decrescendo – winter. crescendo – spring. in a chorus of vitality the season erupts. green blankets and tree limbs speckled with pinks, purples, and ivory. grey eyes turn blue as the clouds part. she walks upright again, her wintry blanket folded in the back of her trunk for another day, another time, another place, another season. not now, for now is spring.

We Need to Talk

Someone-I-Know wrote this.

We need to talk. I’ve got a lot I need to say to all of the People in my World.

…to my Plate: “You’re too full.”

…to my Time: “You’re too gone.”

…to my Eyes: “You’re too tired.”

…to my Mind: “You’re too scattered.”

…to my Soul: “You’re too frazzled.”

…to my Heart: “You’re too torn.”

…to my Body: “You’re too ‘this’, you’re too ‘that.’”

…to my Face: “You’re too worn.”

…to my Will: “You’re too stubborn.”

…to my Facade: “You’re too convincing.”

…to my Scream: “You’re too muffled.”

…to my Tears: “You’re too frequent.”

…to my Breath: “You’re too short.”

…to my World: “You’re slipping from me.”

…to mySelf: “You’re falling.”