Viva la Rebellion
Terror Beneath the fog Among the thorns Inside a box High on a shelf Behind the curtain Around a cell So neatly packed and put away At times it seems surreal The struggles that it took to put a box upon a shelf Maybe if I pull it down and take a peek inside I’ll sweat relief in finding it was all a mess of mind Yeah right…
Memories are a fantasy that I dont dare to dream. As I fixate on the present, the past steeps further into the vortex as I stir my cup of tea. Peppermint and chamomile invigorate my senses. Steam rouses its way across my bosom through my face, as I slowly run my fingernails up and down the back of my thighs. Vibrations tingle through every sensual nook. I can hear every sound echoing faintly, a sort of white noise that soothes like the ocean’s waves. A hint of vanilla mingles with the scent of freshly washed linens.
OMG… I just saw some stupid video I made years ago about my alleged sobriety. I was so messed up back then. It’s all a blur. I dont remember much, but what I do remember is that my brain was shot. It was like I could literally feel the PTSD pulsing through my membrane, which made it very hard to think straight. I was angry, erratic, unreasonable, on edge. I felt like I was a passenger on someone else’s ride.
Why did I pick you? It’s such a puzzle I lost my wit Inside your pit You had me at befuddled
The List, The List Anything but the list Place any burden on me Just don’t go down the list Isn’t it exhausting? To keep tabs on every slight? Every argument? Every rumor? Every paranoid, homespun lie?
I poured my guts into your hideaway Naive as it may be I thought you’d shelter me Bit by bit Sliver by sliver You took it all to make cannibal stew
It starts as a throb in the back of my head Then pulsates its way to my temples As I clinch my jaws My eye starts to twitch I keep wagging my knees I can no longer sit Pace back and forthBiting my nails
The words to explain my state of mind After I lost all I owned and forgot who I was After decades of torment with no reprieve Daily traumatics Nightly parlays My mind draws a blank when think of the words The words to explain what no one should ever endure
You held me down for a long time Imprisoning my burdens so I could attempt to do that thing called “live” I taunted you daily Lunging hot metal pokers through your steel bars
Dedicated to my sister in recovery, Amelia… If it is what it is
It can’t be what it was
Cuz if it is what it was
Then what was is all there is
And if what was is all there is
Then there can never be anything else
Sellout a stadium You think you’re something special Push millions of albums You think you’re something else Try so hard to get on Then forget where you came from Just cuz you talk about it Don’t mean you know where you are
