bury you bury you bury you
but not inside myself
this is how zombies are born - stuffed for too long
in the dark dank swamp of the inner world and all its secrets
the dystonian mystery
what once was frightening re-emerges
distorted, grotesque, unrecognizeable
having lost their names
They claw their way out and make their presence known among ordinary things, like tea parties
They grab ahold of your voice and try to silence you by squeezing
They freeze your body and clench your fists or ring the alarm bell in your brain
And like a nightmare, you want to run away but you can’t…
No, I will not bury you inside my belly.
This time, you will be buried in cool, moist earth
to be lovingly dispelled by shiny earthworms
and rainbow-backed beetles.
This time, you will not torment anyone.
This time, you will grow into flowers.
* I did these while taking a psychology class, and learning about how when we bury our "unpleasant" emotions they can crop up again as anxiety or other symptoms, demanding to be expressed. And just having a bit of fun with the language and imagery. It flowed out very spontaneously and in the name of self-expression I didn't edit it.
* I did these while taking a psychology class, and learning about how when we bury our "unpleasant" emotions they can crop up again as anxiety or other symptoms, demanding to be expressed. And just having a bit of fun with the language and imagery. It flowed out very spontaneously and in the name of self-expression I didn't edit it.
No comments:
Post a Comment