Maybe I’ve been reading too much of Brené Brown lately;
(and even listening to her podcasts; and I never listen to podcasts)
And it’s not that I feel more vulnerable as much as
I’m more aware of how vulnerable I am
HOW VULNERABLE
I’ve always been
and at times I’ve had to fight back that very
v u l n e r a b i l i t y
because
YOU DON’T REALLY THINK I’M VULNERABLE
OR HAVE PROBLEMS
OR HAVE FEARS
OR HAVE MONKEY-MIND THOUGHTS
OR HAVE MULTICOLORED FLAWS THAT DON’T SPARKLE SO GOOD
OR WORRY
OR CRY
OR. . .
Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
But I do
Maybe,
these past 18 months
have changed us all into something we aren’t
or at least something we don’t want to be
Maybe these
OH-SO-EVER-UN-NORMAL-TIMES
have made us all feel a vulnerability
we’d have rather have not felt
or taken us back to places we thought we’ve long left behind
and deeply, dirtily buried. . .
m a y b e
like me,
it’s brought you to a
sight
taste
smell
touch
sound
S E N S E
that just doesn’t
fit
AND WORSE
Makes you feel like you don’t
F I T
Sometimes I hear a Siren
late at night
from my early childhood
as it Blared me awake
Shaking
Wondering
Fearing
a Fire that couldn’t be fought
And though not seen or felt
Still consumed me into an
Inferno of Afraidness
That Siren still wakes me
in the middle of my timeless nights
that never illuminate the Dark
so much as swallows it up
in it’s Fiery Blackness
It comes after me to
a home that no longer exists
into a bed where nightmares
House things that have never happened
and incinerates dreams only dreamt to be dreamed
Oh
Ohh
Ohhh so silently
Sirenlessly