©Elizabeth Dianne Allee
It is in times of great sadness,
That you find me here.
Like strangers we’ve spoken silently,
With words no one could hear…
In those silent moments,
When I’ve not written what’s inside,
There is no ink to suffer bleed,
From the flow of pain’s tide…
©Elizabeth Dianne Allee
September 29, 2017
Can you see through…
The muddy waters surrounding?
Will you reveal the way out?
Feet so far beneath the surface,
Merging with the sludge of doubt.
Existence relative to self awareness.
Perceptual evidence waning.
Afraid to look beneath the surface.
Adapting to the comfort of sinking.
To fight, trust.
To hope, cling to faith.
To emerge, strive.
Light and safety are in wait…
Inspired by Image: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-lake-of-sadness-171052272
A glass vessel stalks his sanity,
Traps him in a protective shell.
Set adrift upon the ocean of his mind,
No navigation, no sail.
Unsinkable, dry and safe,
Able to rest with ease.
A Bystander in his own waking dream,
This prison is his reprieve.
To loneliness’ torment he’s numb.
He’s lived most of his life alone.
All the world offered him was pain,
This is now his home.
The doctors say the medication will help.
They will pull him back from his isolation.
From the fantasy world in which he dwells,
They don’t understand this IS his liberation.
Time will tell if the glass will break.
If the raging see will recede.
If his vessel of protection is broken,
Will he simply sink?
The pain of yesterday,
Is now the pain of today.
Old hurts resurface,
Showing no mercy or restraint.
New tears are cried,
Off the drips of tears past.
Sorrows thought buried,
Exit their open tombs intact.
The peace of today,
Strives to shred yesterday’s pains.
God’s love buffers old hurts.
Stale are the tears which remain.
The sorrow is slower to leave.
Spilling and merging with my porous soul.
Painting dull colors upon my countenance,
Making movements surreal and slow.
It cruelly replays dark memories,
Blanketing thick shadows on my heart.
Actively consuming hope,
Tearing apart healing scars,
Mistakes made on destruction’s heels,
Existence defined only as “survive”.
I’m reminded again,
How it feels to be barely alive…
I’m not well versed on the matter,
Of how to push past my emotions.
They’re like a life raft aimlessly adrift,
An expansive, fickle ocean.
I submit to them, I acquiesce,
Sometimes without considering truth.
Ignoring the things I’ve learned,
My undisciplined soul, a harmful muse.
They assert their control upon my life,
Making it hard, at times, to breathe.
I fight the urge to crawl into my shell,
To induce my cowards leave.
I’m learning to proceed regardless of,
The emotional whispers strumming my fears.
To swim to the surface, cinder block bound,
Where feelings become mere souvenirs…
Just outside her window,
A sheet of glass away.
She sees past the familiar,
Through unrelenting drops of rain.
Life in graceful color,
Wings she wishes she knew.
To fly her from the four wall perimeter,
Which has dominated her view.