(self portrait)
Mania pushes from the bottom skin layer.
Like a prickly cactus it just sits there,
Disguising itself as anxiousness,
Maybe a dancing compost of both.
It’s like two magnets in flux and
What a juxtaposition the
Pushing and pulling of which
Will be the first to win.
Exhaustion sets in.
The eyes go heavy. The skin aches,
And it takes a strong wind
To fight the urge to burrow in,
Find a hideout, let the darkness win.
It’s leftover somatic, this manic.
It’s the cells working to expel the
Rest of the hell still lurking and
It leaves the bones aching. Hurting.
It’s an ebb and flow to let
All the trauma go, dig out the claws,
Who do they think they are,
Making a home inside photons?
The face grins with focused eyes,
Working to balance the churning inside,
It’s how the wounded have survived
Walking the human plank, life after life.
It isn’t fear, per-say, that binds them here.
It’s the overwhelming influx of matter
From incessant chatter of surroundings, so
The body searches consistently for grounding.
That’s what exists behind the smile lines,
Everything that winds and rewinds
Into a sorted mass of entangled
Matter making the brain scatter.
Just ride that wave in with the tide.
Glide into soft sand in the moonlight.
Breathe it all out like a tsunami.
It’s the sound of freedom calling.
Scream into pillows and hug trees,
And sing, even if it’s off key.
For you are a million storms of peace,
Ready to leave behind the dis-ease.
In the end what really matters is
You taking the tattered, worn pieces,
Weaving the mania into mosaics,
And having the final say in it.
You are ocean and love’s hoping.
You are alabaster and laughter.
There’s a glow in you that’s increasing
As the scattered cease their screaming.
You are the calm of midnight .
You’re the warriors valiant fight.
When you’ve reached the center of you,
That’s when it all subdues.
