There are times when growth is right at the surface. Our resistance to seeing the truth can create incredible stress and pain if we allow it. What follows is a series of poems I wrote in one such moment.
I've been absent. I have been struggling with this underlying sadness, and a dark, dreary apathy. It's ironic, because I'm a basically happy person. I laugh a lot and find much in life to love. And yet, this writing has brought out the pain underlying it all. In honesty, I've always known it was there. It hangs like clouds off in the distance, signaling a pending storm. I work hard to keep the storm at bay. Working hard here being a physical statement as well as an emotional one. Go, go, go. Do, do, do.
No, I'm not talking possession
or anything Satanic.
I'm talking about those demons
that swirl around in your head
saying you aren't good enough
or don't know enough,
the ones that make you feel like
you can't breathe,
you could jump out of your skin,
you might just go crazy.
The moment of panic,
the moment I realize
I've been baring my soul
and placing it out into the world.
Anyone could read what I write
and know me
better than most people
who are close to me.
It takes sheer will
to continue down this path.
Does the fear I feel inside myself
have anything to do with you
or is it really about something inside of me
something which colors my view
I'm starting to think I project
these feelings upon your soul.
The truth, is likely more difficult,
I think I own this hole.
So what's the real risk in knowing?
What I'm unwilling to see
when I start to worry and fret?
What's going on in little old me?
stories told about my conception
lies and deception
a light hidden
a false foundation
mommy goes to school
no daddy to fill the gaps
too many goodbyes and tear streaked cheeks
grandma and grandpa left holding hands
too young to understand
finally an adult
family members' attempted suicides
bring fear of loss
powerless to change
It keeps visiting
That anxious, antsy feeling
Jumping out of the skin feeling.
Spinning out of control
No desire to do what's in front of me
Only want to spin
But not spin in a dance or a song
Spin, like a spiral, out of control.
What is this energy that possesses me?
What am I supposed to be doing I don't see?
Where am I supposed to be going I don't know?
Being visible? Being invisible? It can't be being invisible, I've been that my whole life.
You got to play the voice of reason for me this morning
But I didn't want to listen to reason
I wanted to rage
I wanted to dance on the drum of emotion
I wanted to scream and yell and be alive
I didn't want to listen to reason or patience
I know that voice