The ghost is now upon her
Breathing self-loathing and doubt; clarion warnings of danger
Her vision darkens, eventually turning black
as she spirals
down
down.
What is this place?
A lonely space...
Was I here once before?
"I can't remember!", she cries out loud
and curls up on the floor.
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Comments7
(such a haunting read
thanks for sharing and inspiring
my own little scribbled reply)
when that oppressive helplessness overwhelms us
crawling, is nothing to be ashamed about
lay low, lay low my friend
just breath, short sharp relief
and hope it passes, sooner
that that nightmare, where it lingers
draped in a moonless bleak of night;
till we're wide awake - late
and brushing our teeth, while pinching our cheeks
trying to make sure, we've made it
till the morning, after
and so we've overcome, once again
rejoice, treat ourselves
to a sweet pastry or two
and a swig of our favourite
carb-happy drink,
simply celebrate, this
our Aurora's grace of survival
otherwise known
as another day: alive...!
I am glad I could inspire such words! Really cool!
A fine write D. Day 7 done?
Thanks! Yes, day 7 done. A week! I am actually really happy with the result so far 😀 Thank you for your support too!
still going strong.
Haha thank you!
Wow you have captured the darkness of constant self-loathing so clearly Draven -- and with impressive imagery you highlight the resultant loneliness - - - clarion warnings indeed. Brilliant read.
Thank you! I hope my subject gets out of this space! I have faith she will 🙂
Feminine trauma, this poem makes me think of my all time favourite, Sylvia Plath, and so many women in troubled times. By the way I tried to send you a friend request, but I'm not even sure how to. I see you're new and you've been supportive of my writing, and likewise, you have a lot of poetic talent.
Thank you! I am not familiar with Sylvia Plath but I will look her up. I think we are already friends, I think I must have requested you earlier? You come up in my friend thingy!
Maybe, I'm not sure. But yeh, please check out Sylvia. She is truly the mother of confessionalism. In my opinion, no other poet can catch up with her creativity or plane of genius.
3 more comments
I love your title, it just happens to be one of my favourite words ...and your poem is pretty darn neat too .. I particularly like the format & two part formula that works really well here ................................... Neville 🙂
Oh wow, is it? That is cool! How come it is your favourite word, if I may ask?
Thank you!
it was the name of the local newspaper where I grew up .. my pleasure
1 more comment
Hauntingly beautiful and brilliantly penned🙂
🙂 Thank you!
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