Her Progeny

I’m determined to see this task to its end.
But there are instances
When the vortices of recollections
Pull the motions of production to halt.
This determination causes the aggrieved
To relive traumatic loss,
A subsequent outcome of cathartic release
Reflecting abreactive methodology.
The familiar crippling pain
Comes creeping back into me
As I am reminded by her progeny.
Is it worth understanding
Or is the pain something better left forgotten.

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Am I Awake

A mess of words stuck to each other
Barely making any sense.
Was I that much of a mess back then.

Was I delirious
Am I awake now?

Then why do I
Still feel disoriented.
I feel my way through
A lightless woodland,
The rough bark
On my finger tips,
The crunching of crud
Underneath my feet.
My sensory receptors
Respond to stimuli,
But these things,
They don’t exist.
I try to find an exit
But can’t seem to find it.
From every direction
Trees of this Garden
Obstruct my way.
I tilt my head
Towards the heavens
Searching for the moon
But the specked sky is hidden
By shadeless canopy greens.

A lightning bolt strikes;
I then realise
I am naked.