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Unspoken thoughts about and to my therapist

Acceptance/Resignation

Written by:bewilderness
Published on August 13th, 2011 @ 10:27:36 pm , using 74 words, 361 views
Posted in bewilderness

I have no words,
I'm dry.
I'm empty.
Trying hard to coalesce some meaning out from these fragments of life
Failing that, how about some happiness?
I feel powerless.
Even as I know I'm not. I have a choice. I've made up my mind.
Even as I wish I could choose again.
I cannot walk. How could I possibly fly?
I cradle, arms to knees,
and rocking slowly,
Wait for you to save me.

I have no words,
I'm dry.
I'm empty.
This time for real.

Nervous

Written by:bewilderness
Published on August 3rd, 2011 @ 09:27:18 pm , using 63 words, 799 views
Posted in bewilderness

Its funny how they quake and shake
shattering any semblance of humanity.

What I don't understand is how fear and anger are both
the same and not, and what I don't understand
is how you can notice but not react
respond but not notice.
And I don't understand
how to fix what's wrong
without paying attention to it.

Its strange how they jump and jitter
disembodied souls connected
by their very disconnection.

I Can't Take It

Written by:bewilderness
Published on August 20th, 2011 @ 11:39:56 pm , using 31 words, 271 views
Posted in bewilderness

No more wandering away from my reality
Here it is:
cold, thick, and plain.
Overwhelmingly so.
No more commandeering inspiration
No more tripping through fantasies of competence
Here I am
again.
Sober.
Warm and frightened.
Unimpressive.
insignificant.
No escape.
I can't take it.

You have to give me one thing...

Written by:bewilderness
Published on August 2nd, 2011 @ 12:20:22 am , using 106 words, 344 views
Posted in bewilderness

my level of dysfunction is way out of proportion with that of my family system.
...
That's quite an achievement
wouldn't you say?

I have a problem
a secret
promise not to tell?

Its my $80. Can we for once, NOT talk about what a failure I am?
Because its my fault I'm like this. My fault.
And my head is spinning fast.
I'm in deep.

Before you start telling me how to breathe,
consider what its like to have even the most fragile of hopes
dashed against the wall again and again.

Am I defective? Am I unstable? Am I pathetic?
Why can't I remember?

You gotta admit, doc.
This is one mystery for the books.

What is wrong with me?

Dead limb arms

Written by:bewilderness
Published on August 2nd, 2011 @ 11:43:46 pm , using 60 words, 333 views
Posted in bewilderness

No jolt of creativity passes through
Write! He says.
He is you.

A current of understanding tugs at my ankles
Don't fight the tide, he says,
Not the highs nor the lows.

But these dead limb arms
are crossed in defiance.
These two fat worms.

No inspiration takes hold,
I open and close my mouth
To retell what I'm told

I can't live like this, I said,
that is all I know.

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