Every Night, and Indefinitely

Dear Readers:

Watch now, as we listen closely to our reclusive subject reciting her poetry. She is siting two-fisted with her paper and pen, and a glass of wine. She considers her unraveling sanity night after night. As the moon rises, her intellect spins. She is either going mad or perhaps she is slightly touched. She is indeed overwhelmed by her senses fusing. Irregardless, she is different and obsessed with the human condition. She ruminates with manic creativity over the injustices of humanity, but hope lingers nonetheless. She is haunted, but feeds incessantly on such. Her empathy and pain duel, and the outcome is yet to be determined:

These walls have

Metaphorical stones

My personal Veil of Jericho

I am counting in sevens

A separation from

My innate discomforts and

Mainstream society

My synesthesia shouts in shades of grey

And these walls offer

An isolated haven

Found within and

Built for

My emotional protection

To discern my condition

Away from the noise

Confined to myself and

With all triggers removed

My intimate space is

Safe and solitary

Quietly entombing

In body and mind

And I pace within

This is my mausoleum

The flesh of my wit

Accompanied only

By a cacophony of

Voices weeping

[This is not altogether symbolic, but provides some truth to the subject's fear of pending insanity.]

For mercy

In poetic fragments

Inside my brain, and

The Goddess of Eris --

With Phobos and

Deimos, are ready

To protect me

Exposing the two-faced

To the light, but

In the sanctity of my darkness

Fighting demons

On my own behalf

Borne from a brokenness

My vulnerability shattered like glass

Coupled with

The massive weight of

My empathy pulsing

Disproportionate and consuming

My disfigured changeling

And torn between

The fibers of wool

Now swaddling me

With carnal suffocation

[With regard to matters of the heart, you see here: the subject's undoing is taking place in slow motion.]

To the lovers who scalped me,

And harvested my soul:

You left me for dead.

And I can rest

Within these walls

I am able to heal

[Contradictorily, the subject still ends with hope.]