trauma
I sit in a fog
again
and wonder how I'll surive
this trauma,
how WE will survive it.
Layers
of pain
send my mind reeling
into an indiscernible blur
of blinking, buzzing, blinding
florescence.
No matter what I do,
I can't ignore it.
Nor can I understand it
or feel it
or look directly at
the hideous, violent blur of chaos.
I sit
and stare
in a dissociative glaze
with my jaw dropped,
on the verge of drooling -
the verge of crying, breaking, dying.
I wait
for my world to become
quiet
calm
safe.
I wonder if I wait
for nothingness.
It doesn't matter -
I'd rather pursue
a false, futile hope
than succumb to death.
So I wait
and try to survive
the florescent violence
that incessantly invades
and threatens my life,
my sanity.
again
and wonder how I'll surive
this trauma,
how WE will survive it.
Layers
of pain
send my mind reeling
into an indiscernible blur
of blinking, buzzing, blinding
florescence.
No matter what I do,
I can't ignore it.
Nor can I understand it
or feel it
or look directly at
the hideous, violent blur of chaos.
I sit
and stare
in a dissociative glaze
with my jaw dropped,
on the verge of drooling -
the verge of crying, breaking, dying.
I wait
for my world to become
quiet
calm
safe.
I wonder if I wait
for nothingness.
It doesn't matter -
I'd rather pursue
a false, futile hope
than succumb to death.
So I wait
and try to survive
the florescent violence
that incessantly invades
and threatens my life,
my sanity.
Hey. This is a beautiful poem, with SO much raw emotion. I could literally feel you. We need to talk soon. When are you free to talk?
ReplyDeleteI have often felt such pain, and I hope you have not had to feel it as often as I have. I pray that God is even now delivering you from it and showing you the level path on which He wants to lead you. The lows are not worth the highs, but we are addicted to them. Find your quiet center in Him. You won't lose your passion or yourself. You will find them in Him, but they will be safe.
ReplyDeleteYour writing is so good and so honest.
Elizabeth,
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad that you could feel me in this poem. As a means of personal healing, my goal in writing is to be as honest and raw about what I feel as posssible. Granted, such raw honesty certainly limits which poems I feel that I can and should share in this public space, but it's exciting, scary, and a huge honor when I'm able to do so.
And even more exciting when it connects with the reader in a visceral way. That is in fact why I post my poems... to give and receive understanding. That understanding, in and of itself, is a major source of healing for me and I hope others as well.
Yes, we need to talk. I will call soon.
Mama ("Claire"),
ReplyDeleteI'm glad that you're also enjoying my writing and that you can feel the honesty in which I try to write.
While I certainly understand the addictive quality and defensive structure of pain-seeking (a structure that I have personal experience with), the pain about which I write here was a recent experience of a more honest, clean pain in the midst of a major relational conflict. It did not feel like a self-indulgent "low," and I do not believe that all pain is in fact self-indulgent (e.g., Jesus in Gethsemane). [*caveat - I realize you never used the word "self-indulgent" and that I'm responding here to MORE than the comment you've posted here.]
I feel that God is, in fact, delivering me daily, not necessarily from pain, but from fear. And I believe that the deliverance that I experience is always from God but always within some context of human relationship.
Hmmm. Now that I've opened this soap box, it seems I should write a full entry on this topic. More on this to come...