Hi guys, it's Lydia here. This is probably the latest post I've ever written, but I finally found some time to edit and share this poem. I wrote this a few months ago, in a pretty horrible time for me. But I found that writing about my anxiety and picturing it as a living breathing person helped me focus my mind, it gave me a sense of clarity. Obviously anxiety or any mental illness has no form or shape, but for each person I think the way they visualise and imagine their illness is different to each individual mind. But tell me what you think and if you feel comfortable enough share your experiences with how your or a loved ones mental illness effects your way of life.
It attacks in happy hours,
Laughter escaping open mouths.
In times not foreseen, when minds are running water.
She appears as mist, that thins through floorboards.
Or beady spiders twitching in bedroom corners.
The Lady of 'ifs' and 'buts', whose face appears despite comfort.
The Monstrous Mistress, white fingers shadowing true sight,
Watery grey eyes that loom in waking sleep.
In minds blank peace she calls -
Her cold caress breathing in ears,
You've forgotten something.
Her purple lips gleeful in anxious agony.
Lounging, watching as fingernails stab palms,
As fidgeting eyes scan around frightful,
Finding something, someone to stop her presumptions.
As clammy backs cool, the echoing thuds reside.
She crawls back through silky glass.
Into innocent eyes, down, down within
She sings I am you. I can never leave.
No comments:
Post a Comment