There was much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.
“The Masque of the Red Death”
by Edgar Allan Poe
Circles
Running, running, running
Isn’t it exhausting?
Running from yourself in hopes of finding something else
A home within another
A feeling somewhere else
A sense of belonging in any realm other than your own
You don’t see that you’re already where you know you belong
So what’s the point in running?
Where do you think you’re running to?
When as you blindly run in circles
Eventually you end up home
The place you were trying to run to
- V.P
The Darkness
The trauma makes me feel so very small
Whilst filling me with so much rage I feel I should be bigger
Bigger than any human
Big enough to be a giant so that maybe this rage will feel more like a mild numbing pain
It makes me want to lash out
But the pain really just makes me want to curl up into a tiny ball and disappear
Disappear into the darkness where there is no pain, just peace
And I don’t mean death, no not at all
I mean the space of the dark, if I just stay there, away from everyone, hidden, it won’t feel so heavy
I can stay there forever in the peace of not having to worry about my interactions and how people really feel
The only reprieve my mind gets is in the darkness, in the night where I can float away in a dream
Somewhere much more peaceful than my current mind
Where there’s someone that cares, someone that would go to great lengths to show me softness and kindness without me ever having to worry about it being a burden
Someone who feels so ardently about me they would go to the ends of the earth to make sure I was okay, no questions asked
A place where all I experience is softness, kindness, pure love and adoration
If I go there and I stay there, everything would be okay, would it not?
- V.P
Who Am I?
Sometimes I worry too much about how people view me and how I show up in this world.
Maybe it’s a defence mechanism to protect myself? I feel like I think about protecting myself and my heart too much now.
I just want to be myself, to be free and happy, kind and loving, to be soft and gentle.
But do I trust myself to not let that softness fall into the hands of the wrong people?
I would like to think so, but a part of me disagrees.
I contain this anger inside me for the men that have done me wrong and I so wish to free it but I can’t.
It sits in my body, coursing through my veins.
I wish to turn it into something good. To turn that anger into love, to softness and kindness for those that deserve it.
For myself.
How do I do that?
I don’t know, but it’s better to at least try because I don’t want to lose myself to this anger and pain. I don’t want it to consume me.
V.P
