Onyx, the beast floods the room.
Eyes mine but rubbed raw, the scratches from its claws
already infested with the times
it couldn’t escape, couldn’t let go
and all the while I sleep
while waking.
Tag: dissociation
Earthquake
A thousand conversations in my ears,
snatches of words, flashes of colour
and the whole ground shaking.
My ground
is turning, thrown up and down
with no chance to recover
before the world is split in two
and my heartbeat
is both silent and rampant.
Unable to process what’s going on,
detachment takes hold
forcing breath into my lungs
and oxygen to my head.
I look up and see the sky.
Calm, blue and trimmed
with a neat green beard.
Ice flows forward to crash
against my ankles,
bringing with it the lull of evening.
The voices, now tired, begin to settle.
even as the roar continues.
Eventually
they take the leap and merge
with the shadows. Dark.
Tied with the night.
Inked
My hands are circuit boards, lines inked like solder
to connect all the dots. A map of who I am
woven into a cloak so you can’t see me at all
unless I show you the route with red marker.
You might not want to look past my shield,
sometimes I don’t want you to, either.
It’s when I break down without knowing,
becoming still and silent, a signpost to nowhere,
that I need you to see. The me behind it all.
The Monologue
Can I touch you?
If I reach out, will I feel
your skin against my fingertips,
the loose strands of your hair
tickling my wrist?
Will your breath ebb out from your lips
in the cold air,
if you speak to me?
Are you real?
Really, truly real?
I’ve seen you so many times,
everyday, in fact,
and you always catch my gaze,
our eyes meeting
through the glass.
If I cut myself,
will you bleed too?
Don’t worry, I won’t.
I’m better now.
But I still need to know.
Tell me…please?
Treeshallow Musings 