Disillusioned ones

Through watery eyes I sleep, the back of my hand utter wet from tears,

Mind running, heart racing, as I move from one scene to the next,

From one dream to the next,

And I hear the whispers, voices calling out in the darkness of my room,

I'm as fearful as I can remember- if I ever am,

Or not! I'm asleep, unmoving, like I'm bound in ropes unseen,

Mind thrashing, heart skipping as I make inaudible whimpers-

There's a figure in my room, there's a figure in my room.

It has no face, with a blankness that stares if it ever had eyes,

But I can see recognition, like it knows me, or something about me,

And I can almost tell what it is.

There's a figure in my room, and it is the same figure in my dreams,

Arms open, claws extended, it comes to me with a look on its face,

Not a dangerous look as I should originally see, but rather

A look of pity, and understanding,

Like it truly knows me,

And I could say it truly knows me, for the open arms are an embrace,

With a pat on my back and a rub on my head,

Whispering kind words to me, telling me

“I understand child, it’ll be fine,”

I hear genuineness in its voice, and something else too.

I hear it again, “it'll be fine,” something in that promise.

It sounds like a promise, one made to the dying, or to one about to be killed.

Then I see it fully, I'm about to be killed!

But the figure does nothing that shows this, and I can’t tell if it knows I know,

It keeps patting me on the back and rubbing my head and telling me

“I understand child, it’ll be fine.”

A glint in the darkness like a flash of lightning, and it goes all dark again,

A hot line burns in my back, like a hot knife through flesh,

And something trickles hot down my back.

Another hot line burns through my back, like it’s aimed for my heart,

And I'm filled with a nightmaresome horror-

Thoughts dark as words fill my mind, as images run through me like ghosts,

As a marionette I'm suspended mid air and I see its fingers move.

It controls me, contorting me in the most horrible twists,

My tongue has lost its use, hanging limply, while my throat runs dry and constricted.

It goes quiet, in my mind and in the room, and a soft voice wafts in,

Song carried on gentle wind, and I'm filled with pleasantness.

A coolness flows through me and I'm returned to life,

And just as soon I'm plunged into darkness again,

With all the horrible feelings like the song was merely an illusion,

Hope for the demented mind,

Another voice, soft and quiet, fills me this time, and it says the same words

“I understand child, it'll be fine,” and I'm filled with screams as from burning,

My mind torn as flesh dragged through thorns.

I see its face again, and I see something else,

There's something of me in its face, like it has my face and I'm looking at myself,

It changes slowly, becoming clearer until fully formed and I see me.

Then my eyes clear as after tears and understanding dawns;

There's no figure in the room; there never was a figure in the room;

I, with my hands, had twisted myself into horrible ways

And brought on me many memories and I screamed as I remembered.

I was the voice that always understood and promised wellness,

So in the end the figure is me, and I am my nightmare, locked in myself.

 

 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

You are a amazing writers. Your story filled with struggle and real life.
"And brought on me many memories and I screamed as I remembered.
I was the voice that always understood and promised wellness,
So in the end the figure is me, and I am my nightmare, locked in myself."
The above lines are powerful. You led the reader to a dead-end and truth. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

[Opeyemi Jide-Ojo]

Thank you too, Coyote

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome.

[ReneeJ]

Oh wow the descriptions, the darkness....This has so much depth and soul in it that I could not stop reading. I really enjoyed this!!! Keep writing :)

[Opeyemi Jide-Ojo]

Thanks Renee.... :)

[Patricia]

Very descriptive for vivid imagery and I love the story and it flowed well, a bit long for most readers but I liked it. I would suggest putting breaks in it to give the reader a bit to absorb what they read so stanzas would help. Most readers don't like anything longer than a few short stanzas so you might want to consider shortening it for publication but again I say that it doesn't bother me and I really enjoyed the piece.

[Opeyemi Jide-Ojo]

Thanks Pat. When I write, everything seems to just flow swiftly and smoothly with little patience for breaks. But for readers' sakes, I'll note it..... Thank you.

[Patricia]

You are very welcome. It does flow very well. You were in the zone. :)))