In the Burning Phase of My Life.

To befriend the shadow girl in the mirror…

The Dark Half of the Road.

I would like to think that I never know when it’s going to happen, but that’s not strictly true. I can feel it in the marrow of my bones when I am about to slide downhill into the murky well that is the very bottom of my psyche.
Wow. Such a cliche. I’ve seen messages inside greeting cards that are more ably crafted than what I am writing now. The muse seems to have abandoned me, thumbing a dubiously dangerous ride down the highway to perch on someone else’s deserving brow.
She has found me wanting as well.
It starts thus. A few nights with less sleep, uneasy restlessness causing me to thrash under the covers as though I am running from some unseen predator. Then as I wake up, the burning feeling in the pit of my stomach, the cold fingers of Not Right brushing over my skin. My brain turns ’round and ’round on a monotonous track, hysterically cataloging what is going wrong.

(nothing I thought it was nothing but I guess it’s really something)

The phone rings. I curl up inwardly, a cold and greasy clamshell of blocked emotion. I cannot answer.
The insect buzz of the cell phone heralds text messages. I scan them listlessly, but cannot respond.
I am a dead person, and the dead cannot articulate.
I don’t know how long this chemical acid bath will last this time, but I hope it will not wring me out for too long.



March 13, 2010 - Posted by | Anorexia and Disordered Days., Bits., Mind Shadows. | , , , , ,

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