Friday, April 4, 2014

it was me


all day yesterday

all that I saw

every time I turned my head

was shadows

moving quickly

at the corners of my eyes

momentarily caught

then gone

at first, I thought it nothing

a simple trick of the light

then as the day wore on

I heard the whispers begin

but then the light changed

that came into my room

and her voice in its musical lilt

filled me full from within

I didn’t tell her  

about the shadow people

about the whispers that rolled

down the back of my neck

I didn’t tell her

I felt a haunting chill

she had chased

the miserable whispers away

she came again that day

with stories and imagination

she challenged me to think

in a way I hadn’t done

we played

like costumed characters at a ball

she took from me innocence

as if it were the very first time

she told me stories of creatures

hiding in the night

on the fringes of her forest

but that she would always keep me safe

still those headless images

kept floating in my stairwell

like the ones I saw as a child

all those years ago

I curled myself into her arms

and left my mark on her

as I chose to choose her forever

and never leave her side

she sent me off to sleep

in the blissful state of dreams

as she had left me spent

completely at her hand

sometime later

I heard her come into my room

banging a gong loudly

announcing her return

I woke strangely and scattered

rattled, unable to think

and everything started to spin

and those heads showed up again

the magician, and his lady

and the rabbit pulled from a hat

have been playing their devilish tricks

since before I knew what they were

the moments passed quickly

and the room began to spin

and I lost my train of thought

replaced by something else

rage came in some thought exposed

and I thought I understood

what I had misinterpreted

for so many years, so long

suddenly a crack

as I heard the door click

she was gone and in silence

those fucking heads danced

I scrambled to grab hold

of the thoughts that spun from me

but there is nothing left in my hand

but that damn magician’s wand

for so many years they haunted

and kept me awake in the night

and I let them leave me terrified

not knowing, they, were me

 

 

3 comments:

  1. That's an evil wand...and an awesome poem.

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  3. This is a very powerful and emotionally raw piece. Sometimes, we harbor our own worst demons and look for an external foothold or shield to save ourselves from them. Superbly penned, as always.

    I see that you have been inactive here for the last couple of months. Was thinking of you today so I thought, I'd drop by and say hello. I hope you're doing fine. :)

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