Category: psychology

Who Am I?

(Trigger warning: this poem alludes to child abuse)

Who I am
if not a harbinger –
eyes turned to the sky
diligent?

And what defines me
beyond calm in a crisis
action-taking, firmly
responsible?

No bystander here
I will fight injustice
free the wrongfully accused
capable

Driven
driving
fearless
awake

No sleeping
when danger presents
turmoil relentless
nightmares persist

Visions of uprising
and natural disasters
filling my dreams –
I grow weary

I cry, but no one is listening
the bustle outside reflective
of lives being lived
while I cower

Worried that the sky will fall
and I will be too torn
too bruised
to rise to the occasion

That child I coddled
now questioning my motives
that woman I saved
scoffing at my delusion

I am neither saint nor saviour
I am just a woman/child running
from the drunk under the table
still trying to define herself
as anything but his prey.

(Drawing is my own)

Moth To The Flame

Yearning, so unrestrained
passion’s flame willfully
failing accountability

 Urgency is infectious
vulnerability feeds the sickness
co-dependence overstays

Naïvité on repeat –
mother complex burns
obsessive obligations

Abandonment inevitable
wounds stagnating
threaded histories unravelling

Grief, oppression –
How does one breathe?
Sorrowful, unbalanced

Unmodulated caring
charred tendencies
destined to scorch anew.

(Image mine)

Is Optimism Enough?

“Are you happy?”

The question hits
my gut,
slingshots
down the hall
deadends
at optimism

“Of course,” I respond.

What else can I say…
Sure life needs tweaking…
I am learning to be better…
I can make this work…

Why?  What do see?
Thoughts unspoken
but the bell has been rung…

(I wrote this poem in 2020, in response to a prompt. It was inspired by an encounter with an old flame, whose question caught me off guard. I was not, in fact, happy at the time – my then marriage about to crumble. The thing is, this event happened almost 30 years ago, and yet remains in my mind. Funny how the psyche holds onto things. Image my own.)

Doctoring

Doctoring broken hearts –
my own legacy a training ground –
like an anesthesiologist

I keep the patient breathing,
asleep – muted by kindness,
unconscious and unable to react.

Why?

Because lulling others is more
effective than operating on self –
faux obligations such a balm

Administer lidocaine to the wounds
Numbness preferable to open-hearted
investigation…

no sutures strong enough
to remedy internal bleeding

(Art my own)

Stolen Identity

The woman currently abiding
within this costumed realm
is merely a lethargic version
of the once-vital, now oppressed
miss, whose identification
was stolen by means of
unsolicited adversity.

The focus of this recanting
is to invite a perspective
that not only restores, but
aids in the teaching of other
shadow-selves, that to reassert
original nature is more than fair.

(I’ve stolen Stolen Identity from an earlier post. Art my own)

Alice Knows

Betrayal hugs with enthusiasm
public displays of warmth
so charming

Betrayal clutches vials
and pockets the laundry money
and gives a cheeky wink

Betrayal taps the shoulder
and ducks before the reveal
grins like the Cheshire cat

Plays me like a top
spinning, spinning,
and toppling hard

till I’m bent over
head between my legs
glancing backward

Sure that I just saw
the white rabbit,
out of breath

Each word a pill
making me bigger
or smaller

Then off with my head
Betrayal has made me a pawn
till it tires of me and moves on….

(Image my own.)

Paralysis

Paralysis desecrates floorboards
leaves me suspended…
the skeletons of lost dreams
sprawled out beneath me…
disordered

I am powerless
against the nightly haunts:
a dispirited youth
a righteous mother,
that lonesome child…

Judgment has a long shadow
and slits for eyes…
I don blinders –
tunnelled between
guilt and loathing

This onslaught,
this psychic terrorism
mocks my immobility
forces me to mine
forgotten pith

Survival, instinctual,
steels against the assault
raises prayer
as antidote

An armless attempt
to assert will over fear –
hoping strength restores
vulnerability’s war cry.

(Image mine)