Motion

art_in_motion_by_darklight53-d35aqwn
Darklight 53 – Deviant Art

Going towards
Health, well-being, and stability

Limbs are in motion to remain in the game.
Emotions challenge us to rise above the harm.
Intellect seeks progress to keep moving forward.

Falling backward
Illness, misery, and chaos

Physical wavering, awaiting our fate.
Succumbing to feelings, oppressed into inaction.
Intelligence unable to keep up, a free-for-all ensuing.

Which direction are you going?

Hesitating

6412222445_b10aeec0fc_z
Brooke Shaden

Cravenly holding on when both should be letting go.

It will get better.

Struggling, wishing for the scenarios of rosier times.

Hoping it gets better.

Reality churns out a present of mediocre.

It’s not getting better.

Feeling panic and sadness, a demise is imminent.

It must get better!

Fade to black…

Now, I’ll get better.

Face On

Untitled

Confessions of a young woman

Sometimes I look at myself through the eyes of a stranger. Who I see is not the person I am. Merely a representation of all that other people want me to be. I try to make the world around me believe a different reality, the self-deception is excruciating sometimes, and exhausting. The real me is revolting just under the surface, but to the world around me, all is calm. What keeps this façade in place is the fact that no one cares about me. I know that for a fact. Sometimes I don’t even want to know who I am. It’s bad enough having to live with myself every day. Experiencing the joy of discovery and understanding real joy is a momentary feeling. There are hiccups of excitement coming from my stomach up into my throat when I allow myself to have that sensation of everything’s all right, and I’m all good with me. Sadly, it fades quickly. Who is allowed to entitle themselves to a speck of happiness?  Nah, that’s just something you’re not allowed to experience, I say to myself.

Will it always be like this?

Fire And Ice

fire and ice

The fire in you warms me.
My coolness keeps you from burning to a crisp.

Manage my happiness! 

But my needs are subject to your approval.
Navigating your ego is treacherous.

Peace and quiet, no conflict!

There’s no room for mine.

Cast Aside

Untitled

It’s cold and lonely next to you.
Freezing.
What to do, to break through?
Open up.
Let me in.

I can’t.
I hurt because of you.
You lied.
I cried.
Then I died.

I’ll change.
I promise.
You deserved better.
I know that now.
I’m sorry.
Please forgive me.

No.

Hopelessness

315
Lucid Being 315

In the clutches of this mental sinkhole, forced effort my only ally.

My day is silent, slow tears and exhaustion.

The bed, my refuge.

This world feels so far removed from inside my womb of despair.

Dark, alone and unwell.

I need to stop sinking.

Or eventually, I will float.

Backlash

scars_of_self_hate_by_kapanihan-d8htjev
paintausea.deviantart.com

Guest post by Terry Susi

Just stop
Why can’t you see
I am already damaged

I am hurt
The fuse is ignited
Too late
There is no escaping
The blast

You can wrap me
In your arms
Keep the pieces
In place
Or hide
Behind your indifference
Hope the shards
Don’t slash you

I am done
It is over
I pick up the shrapnel
Now go
Lick your wounds

 

©Terry Susi/IWriteHer.com, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Terry Susi/IWriteHer.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Longing For The Past

8aed48a4e0b9e5324843ff76852e1220

Uninvited days of the past appear at the door of my present.

They push inside to fill the heaviness in the room. A smile begins to form on my weary face.

Uninhibited laughter, passionate entanglements, mundane and easy tasks, all flickering a pretty picture.

Actively watching the gloriously faded memories now vividly replaying in my mind.

But the door closes eventually, and I’m again fully toiling in the sorrow which summoned another life.

Tears, uninvited, fall silently. The wetness glazes over the joy. Images from a previous time return for safe-keeping until my mind summons them. Again.

 

**Originally published PhiloSusi 6/16/14  Posted here with slight revisions.