Fear and Self-loathing in Poetryville

 
it never comes with a warning 
that fistcrushinglungs
skip of a...beat...choking feeling 
suddenly startled 
ghosts brushing spectral fingers across overly sensitive skin 
raising pained bumps that never seem to rub out 
unaware of danger's approach...
until it has you by the throat 

...did you know...? 

if surface is all you're seeing...
betrayal can be found in the conscious 
allowing you to naively believe you have any semblance of control 
simply because you will it so 
while behind the scenes...where you're not looking 
your subconscious carefully maneuvers 
trying to get your attention 
spreading the deck quietly 
tower in the upright position 
two sides of the same mind 
a silent battleground 
reality in the background...
while the forefront lies 
daylight delight 
horrors in the night 
...and you didn't see it coming 
but if you're not on constant alert...
...in tune & seeking balance...
...it serves you right 
or so I tell myself 

...mind over matter indeed... 

I ponder now...
all the hours spent on the couch 
spilling my secret pain 
drowning in the bile from years of silence 
as pulses rhythmically shocked 
palms tingling 
fingers locked 
eyes closed 
focused on the feeling 
as the drone goes on 
and on...and on...and on... 
words rusty from disuse 
stumbling over the truth 
all sound emanating from me 
until I said it all...
...without thought...
...out loud 
a thing I never expected to do 
trading ears for money 
temporary sanity 
mistaking numbness for healing
but gods how I craved that not-feeling

...how's that for honesty? 

but here's the thing 
conditioned to only believe what I  see 
...I was missing half of everything 
due diligence 
must be vigilant 
eyes open at all times 
especially on the inside
let down my guard & it's a dangerous fall
what if next time...
...I'm not strong enough...

Hugging myself
in pure hatred

Applying pressure
right where raw awareness
stabs daggers
over
and
over

Blood spills,
caressing my wounds
in liquid warmth

and just the way
I love


to bleed

I’m down, I’m broken
I’m tattered, decayed
I’m worn, I’m tired
I’m lonely, concaved

I’m weak, I’m lurid
I’m cold, untamed
I’m empty, I’m tainted
I’m lost, delayed

I’m small, I’m malting
I’m taunted, afraid
I’m chained, I’m naked
soulless, depraved

 
 
From angles to tangled limbs  
It speaks to me  
Silhouetted and souless  
Half buried rusted iron at its feet  
By clay muddied waters  
Pooling brown - gray  
Sometimes it's pointing  
Other times beckons the rain  
Always with a ragged face  
Deed tree, I understand  
It happened  
I'm sorry