I originally saw this posted on a friend’s blog and timeline The Last Krystallos. As I read her words on the subject matter and about the project #InShadowSelfie, I decided to pass this along and participate.
As a lover of poetry and sufferer of anxiety disorder and clinical depression, I felt compelled to write it out.
Edible Pulse
It’s raining again,
and my face is fixed.
A vacant stare
I’ve adopted
when I want to see
but look at nothing.
I can hear the pattern
and it reminds me
of boiling lentils in a pot.
I give way to tears
and lend them company
on my pillow. Sluice of silent
sorrow as I lay to sleep.
Storm of spring’s midst,
droplets punctuate
my windowpane
little periods
never a question,
reminding me,
of the thumping
no one can hear;
The pulse of inadequacy
nestled in my veins.
The black box inside
my mind obscures
the view, distorts
daydreams, and suffocates
my flailing limbs.
Then I wake
and all begins again.
©Grace Black
Writing is one of the ways I manage and cope, and I encourage others to give it a try. I began Three Line Thursday to give back in some way, reach out, connect with others, and encourage a positive environment for expression. Come lay down ink…
This is so beautiful Grace.
A brave & heartfelt write. It’s wonderful to reach out to others. I think we all suffer from certainties we don’t widely share. xx
Exactly, Julie. I share in the sufferings, in silence.
Love this Grace. So sad but lovely.
An insightful poem, Grace! Thanks for coming out of the shadow of suffering to share. You are not alone.