In the odd hours of the morning, amongst the silence – even the weirdest of truths must surface.
So you stay awake. Buy time like it will be the next currency to sweep the market. Listen. Wait.
It will inevitably hit… probably right around the time you’ve given up and are trying to find sleep again. Allow it. At this stage, what’s the point in resisting when all of this has been built on the foundation of trusting?
You ask.. does it make sense? Or is this a slow, gradual slip in to psychosis?
SUPPRESSED
My freak
Clawing its way out
Of any orifice it can find
Until no freak outs
Remain
Most recently
Out of my face
Both words and tears
Acting like its a race.
They rush out
Through gasps,
Im begging them to slow down
Left in the dust,
Yet far enough ahead
I can already see it all play out
Help.
Please help.
Every shout is a cry in disguise.
A cry for safety, sight, space, connection.
Please help me,
Slow down.
Grab hold.
In this condition
its a lie if I tell you to reach for a hole
You will not find me to pull me out
But push me deeper
Til I’ve got feelings jam-packed like ear wax.
Reaching for another orifice
Freak’s at it again
Bring a friend
We’ll make a show
Of the explosion.
Bow, bow
“Thanks for noticing”
I found a new stretch
Unlocked a new layer
Of blocked emotion –
It’s going.
It won’t be long now,
You’ll be a whole new woman.
“I got you a hat” –
Said to the freak
Now the jingle-bells
Have turned convulsion
To music
Be patient
Compulsion following
Next freak out, uploading…
Breathe out.
Hold.
Back in.
The freak finds peace,
Deep breaths,
And movement.
Life’s music.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 