Sunday, June 8, 2014
Little Girl Lost
little girl lost
in the dark and long ago
left with the monsters
under her bed
or maybe they were in it
and she screamed
but there was no answer
so in her silence she became a neurotic
a quiet neurotic
with silent addictions
and vocal admissions
that were too much for her mother's ears
that fed her father’s fears
and all fell upon
the deafness of her families ears
so she sat
and she twiddled her thumbs for control
and she vomited the anxiety from her gut
claiming ‘a flu”
but she knew
the monsters were calling
and even if sleep came
they would still be waiting
in the morning
sitting upon wet grass
to greet her with the morning dew
and at night in the mornings stead
they would be there
lurking in her bed
and before long
she was no longer
that little girl lost
she was
a little girl gone
no longer visible in normalcy
but lost, taken over
now belonging to OCD
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I love these lines:
ReplyDeletethey would still be waiting
in the morning
sitting upon wet grass
to greet her with the morning dew
... this is Nature, and your self-healing nature, which I feel is entering your poetry and will continue to see you through during your recovery. I relate to your experiences described here and recommend Gregory Orr's book "Poetry as Survival"... perhaps you've come across it, if not, here's hoping you'll find a copy. It helped me (and helps me) so much! Robert Bly's "Leaping Poetry" is good too ;-)
Thank you. Poetry has been my heal and deal method since I was a child. sometimes it's good, sometimes very very bad but always a release
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