More Of The Same - But Different

I have been nightmaring again. I have very vivid dreams, sometimes I wake up with the emotion of it all still fresh in my throat and heart; fear, sorrow. One of my nightmares I've actually turned into a novel. In time, I will post excerpts from it. But for now, here is a nightmare I've turned into a poem:

Outer Being / Inner Conflict

When shadows and darkness fall

            we see them holding in their laughter and blackest evil

            we sit in corners full of fear

            listening to the deafening silence in the room we two occupy

                        Dowsed in moonlight are the wooden floors

                                      moonlight taking shapes of windows. . .      vortex

All lightless lays the rest of this home

                                    I see you though

                                    you’re crouched down

                                    the only article besides me in this emptiness

and you grin. . .

holding in

the evil and the sin

            We wish you’d let go and release your rage

            you can torture us forever but soon it wears thin my friend.

I see no hair

I see no eyes

I see no part of you but I smell your amusement

                                    and I taste your form

I feel your intentions in the nightfall

            hearing all the talk of the wooden boards

This is no hunt for we know each other’s position in this place

this is no dream, I am here you are there, my heart is beating steadily

                                                            I know I bleed

Speak! Speak demon

                                    these words I can not whisper

                                    this pain. . .    

I can not speak

                                                                        be with me my soul

                                                                        and do not linger off

                                                                        be brave spirit

                                                                        do not desert

My back merges with the wall

I open my eyes, you greet me - “Don’t open your eyes, when you do I can read your mind.”

Your nose touches mine, your eyes are so black they can not be differentiated from the surrounding space

My teeth lock on to your face as I grab your arms and I fight for my life as any of you would

            our bodies fall against that which is sensuously caressed by the light of the moon

                                                                                    disturbing

                                                                        the intercourse between the two

            you and we manage to get to our feet ferociously lunging at throats

                                                                                    forgetting that we possess hands not claws

                                                                                    forgetting what we tread upon,

                                                                                    only knowing that we will devour the other

You shred our skin

as we breathe in

no

this is not a dream

            I bleed

                        I bleed

We ask for no rescue, deliverance or forgiveness

            not now. . .

                        maybe once but not now.

We return the blow breaking bone

            I could not breathe as you limped to me and grinned

            placing your hands on my shoulders I watched you lick your bloody teeth

                        I couldn’t let you seep in

I stepped back

You stepped forward

I stepped right

You stepped right

to any stranger we were dancing, to any except us.

                        you seemed not to mind the broken insides

                        there was no scream of pain as I had imagined

                        only the sight of one undeterred baring the grin I am familiar with

                        one that resounds

                        as you hold the laughter in

                                                I’ll win demon

                                                I’ll win.

Perhaps not my best work, but it got the job done at the time, and I needed to purge. This is how I release the blackness in me - I write. So there will be lots of writing here, lots of purging.

 And this is good; it's good that my soul is not empty, because it means it can be filled with light and love, just as it was filled with darkness and pain. You all are helping me carry pails of healing salve to my wounds. I hear your voices, they are whispering resonations of encouragement and they chime like the voices of priests and priestesses in the sanctuary of my being. So I keep sending thanks, as I listen to the sounds of your melodies.

Tomorrow, Chiming In. . .