Blurred syncope illuminates my subconscious. Tendrils of sound pull back the dark veil, hiding reality in dreamscapes and nightmares. It reigns over me like cloud cover gathering between fronts. The booming decibels fill the sky in my mind and I am lost, running, and sinking into what was empty spaces and that are now filling with black blood, paralysis, and screams.

I might have hurt someone this past week. I don’t remember. More of my memories are lost to the white void. An empty canvas waiting for moments to paint what once was.

I hurt everywhere. My arms have scratches on them, and small oval bruises on my legs. Where was I? Why do I have these?

“Where did you go?”


“Where are you right now, M-“

“I don’t know. Where are you?”

My therapist rests on his comfy royal blue high-back chair beveled in gold rivets. Oak legs. It’s gorgeous. He doesn’t fit into it, like it belonged to someone else.

Do I belong here?

I hear him ask me again where I’m at, but the muse pulls me away like the tide ready to wash away trinkets of secrets from the mainland. Carrying me through a drifting and swirling storm of nothing real.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: