Awaiting peace, slumber.
Hopeful for a few hours of dreams.
Restless. Anxious. Hyper-vigilant.
Over conscious of the hours ’til dawn.
Tossing. Turning. Vainly tempting rest.
Mind wandering, thoughts racing,
The witching hour passes with
An imagination running amok
With images and thoughts over-running
All vestiges of reason and lingering sanity.
I can be my own worst enemy,
What will it take to rescue me from me?
Can human inventions
Restrain my tortured soul?
Spirit can only be calmed by spirt.
Peace, Lord bless my soul with peace.
“Life is pain”
Tattooed on bare skin.
Simple words bear witness
To scars that start within.
Invisible concrete walls,
Metaphorical barbed wire.
External defenses mask
Internal agony and fire.
Scars replace wounds,
Skin eventually heals.
Slowly self remembers
How warm grace can feel.
Day by day,
Journeying in true light.
Recalling the darkness
Makes it seem ever bright.
Sitting in a bathroom stall,
Hiding from the world.
While humanity rushes by,
My sanity unfurls.
Simple porcelain refuge
Where I can stop.
Then gather my fragmented mind
Before returning to the masquerade.
When I was young and painfully shy,
We had a wise old German Shepherd.
I could whisper held-back secrets
Into his attentive ears, and be heard.
When I was older, at a new school,
Friendless and socially awkward,
I had a yellow lab who was my friend,
Who always stayed close by my side.
When I was a young adult woman,
Living with crippling depression,
I had a beagle with long soft ears
Who calmed my restless agitation.
Now that I am the age that I am,
I think of my canine companions.
The ones that were, the ones who are,
Have molded who I have become.
Head down, glazed over eyes,
One foot in front of the other.
Like a slowly dripping leak,
Each day melts into the next.
Blank stare and a fake smile,
Pretending everything is fine.
Smoldering embers of pain
Burn concealed on the inside.
How much longer until the fire
Burns through the interior and
The blazing inferno breaches
The counterfeit calm exterior?
Ethereal, cellophane, transparent,
She moves through life like a wind.
Looking, acting, feeling, hungering,
But others don’t even notice her being.
She hurts, cries, aches to be seen,
But all that is noticed is rustling trees.
She causes pain, lets flow her blood,
All that is noticed is rain making mud.
Empty, weak, her face low in the dirt,
Learning invisibility can deeply hurt.