transabled.org

 

• About
• Login
• Contact
• Accessibility

Google Search:
Web transabled.org Go

 

Home / Stories / A poem: Demons

A poem: Demons

Written by Sean on Tuesday, June 13, 2006

I wrote this poem several years ago. As I went to sleep last night, I remembered it. It’s on the site somewhere else (in the Ficition section), but I thought I’d put it in my Thoughts as well, because it certainly feels this way. Not a cheery thing, not by any stretch of the imagination. But… Well, that’s how I feel.

Mexico, a bought for doctor.
New York City, an unscrupulous thug.
Meeting with a 2"x4".
Ending life as I know it.
Going to bed, hoping to awake changed.

Leaden blanket wrapping me
Paralysis of emotions, as effective as of limbs
Nowhere to go, somber mood.
Escape, run away, move, nothing works.
Run from myself, I cannot.

Leaden blanket, too thick to fight.
Can’t tell what’s behind.

Demons wearing masks,
All too familiar, non-identified monsters.
Pick, pick, pick, pick, drag me down.

Solid noose, the more you fight, the tighter it’ll go.
Pas de répit, sans cesse, je m’enfonce,
Just like white waters, a maelstrom.
Strengths greater than I.

Unbearable burden, end it there, try the forbidden apple.
Just one more escape, essais futile.
But! This one could be the right one…

Love, a floatation device amid the surf
Life saver, life preserver. At times,
even it can’t float me through.

Un-named fears, masked skeleton, clicketing, racketing, far too noisy, too far from the closet.

My mind, padded cell for howling demons,
kept in check by remnants of sanity.

Ca fait mal. Quoi?
Hurts even more to realize ignorance.
Ludicrous, n’est-ce pas?
A tear, asked for and refused.
Get a grip, get a grip, jump start yourself, man.
Go to sleep, wake up, still the same, harsh reality.

It won’t.
Go.
Away!