Constructs

Somewhere in Iceland I lay under a graying sky. There's billowing clouds with patterns of blue between them.
And a ceiling of intermittent glass between us. The sky and me. Outside of it is my freedom. Inside, dissociated, I'm admiring this Icelandic scene.

I stretch my arms to the side, opening my heart chakra wide, knowing the pain will soon follow. It will disperse in 000's and 111's. Binary code personified as electrical impulses sending the wrong information to every cell of my being.

This torment will glide through me so deeply it will affect my future ancestors for generations to come. It will spiral bloody into the earth as tears, salt, a misspent body. Buried, lowered into the ground.

I sleep this night but the ghosts wake me at 3:00am. I turn over and feel cords in my back. Many of them. The entities inject me with an **** of information. Mostly terror. Mostly ways to integrate the truth of what I've been through, go through, will feel. Releasing these high pitched patterns, rusty with screams into me. So I can't sleep.

The sun rises in pink. It warms a valley of moss. I'm alone, watching it. Hoping to be a part of the next horizon. The one with abundant sleep, hope, dreams of a quiet, ecstatic normality.

But for now I open my eyes and dissociate. I can't accept that the cure is inside just like the evil. So why not curl up and pretend if just for a moment that the darkest shadows aren't really all a construct of me?
XLonelinessKillsX XLonelinessKillsX
31-35, F
1 Response Aug 21, 2014

you can try 'something' with pola' 'nimals. . . . . or you can chat with me: )