...Terrors of the mind

By SolApathy

Into the epic trance of ecstasy
Knowing what others miss
My drug fueled
Bliss
Trapped in a place where I feel there is infinite space
Ribbons and ties
The beauty of something so nice
Warmth and comfort caress my skin
The tightness of this jacket
I feel within the womb
All the others gathered I see their gloom
Never understanding why their eyes glisten with tears
Touching my face like I’m not even here
I whisper to the sadness that surrounds
No one seems to listen to my caressing sounds
Not to worry, allay your fear
I am fine; I find comfort here
Reaching out to touch the sadness dripping on my face
Finding I can’t move from this
Place
Struggling; my whispers become cries
I see their words on their lips, silent whispers out of my grasp
Struggle to read the words they say
I catch a frightening phrase
Permafried and burned out his brain; let him go-- nothing remains
My cries to screams as I realize it’s not a dream
Realize they can’t hear my thoughts; my desire
Dire
Broken and torn
My nightmare
Born
 Needle creeps into my vein
Screaming in savage silence as they take what
…Remains

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
© 2020 SolApathy
Published on Monday, February 27, 2017.     Filed under: "Poetry"

Author's Note:

Taking what life is left of me; you decided I was not to....Be
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Comments on "...Terrors of the mind"

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  • A former member wrote: To me, this speaks to the very nature of addiction. As a recovering opiate addict, when I was using, I never understood why people were so sad for me when I was so happy just by being high. Drug lenses are indeed powerful, love. Great job! Queen Reb;).

  • Drea On Monday, February 27, 2017, Drea (1443)By person wrote:

    ...and all is right in the darkness known as DP. I've been craving darkness lately. This fed that. It just felt right in a not so right way.

  • dwells On Monday, February 27, 2017, dwells (4288)By person wrote:

    Was thinking electro-shock, and then maybe a near-death experience, and finally a chemical cleansing - none a comforting choice. Guessing this might be what a toxic cocktail might feel like to a condemned man too. More likely, just a therapeutic dose of manageability. An outstandingly well-written brush with terror SA - let me loosen that jacket and cheers! - Dan


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