Sometimes when you’re in a dark place you think you’ve been buried, but you’ve actually been planted.
Christine Caine
mental illness
A Lovely Madness
poetryIt’s lovely to think
that the mind has been healed,
that it works like everyone else’s,
until you realize
that you can never be healed
because your body opens new wounds
of its own accord
and applies half-hearted bandages
in a patchwork attempt
to seem normal.
It is lovely to think that
madness is beautiful,
craziness is kind,
until it turns painful
when it shatters your mind.
Things i never tell you
poetrysometimes I want to wring my neck
like a waterlogged dishcloth
sometimes I want to squeeze my eyes
until my brain vessels pop
sometimes I want to spike my gut
until my insides flow
but
i cannot allow my soul
to dive deep below
Things You Save in a Fire
poetryThe way the smoked curled around the fabric of your lungs, a tickling reminder of your body's will to live. But - She's sick of trying to put it out, this fire, impossible to douse, melting melting melting tiredness is oozing a bruising reminder of the impossibility of healing.
Boreal
poetryAs the light recedes into the horizon,
the north wind seep through
cracks in the window
and slits in the door.
My toes are cold
against the bedroom floor,
and I wonder when
my blood will unthaw,
and when
I might feel the light
once again.
Quote
quote“One need not be a chamber – to be haunted, One need not be a house; The brain has corridors – surpassing Material place. . Ourself, behind ourself concealed, Should startle most; Assassin, hid in our apartment, Be horror’s least.”
Emily Dickinson
exulansis 