Saturday, May 26, 2012

Under Cover

By Michelle Friday, April 17, 2009

Day


Broken.

Scared, scarred

A vision appears in the mirror, a pond, through tears.

The vision resembles me,

my character, my mannerisms, my name.

And I try

to smile, to love, to laugh

I try to be.


Those outside can't hear my scream.

I cry for help - the knives hurt,

stabbing deeper into my head, my neck and puncture my eye.

I try to be.


I smile, I love, I laugh

The knives hurt.

Seconds become infinite.

Pain blankets all concentration and Anxiety begins to join Pain.

The knives hurt.

The knives hurt.

The knives hurt.

I try to be.


My eyes close and the dizziness slows

Tears run down my cheeks.

Tears of sadness, of hurt, messengers crying from the pain within.

Seconds took hours, yet the hours have flown past me.

I open my eyes to darkness, to night,

my eyes close.

The knives slowly break for the day.

Now I can lay, I can sleep

Now I can be.

4/18/09 9:54am

I am stabbed with the absolute verification of your rendition of those knives I know so well.

 

"Try to be": just 3 words that encompasses all our efforts to function through the storm.

 

Thanks & all the best to you, Jesskit69

4/18/09 12:34pm

Thank you for sharing* 

 

Your poem gives me an odd sense of comfort, dont know exactl why,but it does* Smile

 

Just to Be- 

Just to Be- 

Is a gift* 

From somewhere over the rainbow, 

zoe 

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By Michelle— Last Modified: 09/03/10, First Published: 04/17/09