stoop in march.

schitzo? i dont think i qualify to be schitzophrenic.

and there i sat,

on my stoop out back

in my mothers pajama pants

staring into the distance

letting the colors

of dry leaves

and the rock wall

and the dusty unused garden

fade together

letting the soft loving smoke

caress me like i never was

alone

calm me like i never was

anxious

 

i felt the chills of the afternoon air frazzle through me

and the pounding in my head muddled together

and with each exhale

the life i hated dissapated

into the cold march air

 

standing up

i felt true quiet

the quiet never heard of in my head

the absolute

definite

silence

and as if to assure myself of it

i stood still

expecting to hear an uproar of hideous

shouting voices

mumbling together

like a vast crowd of senators

crammed into my skull, arguing and arguing and arguing

 

i heard the wind,

and the leaves crackling through the air over one another

and i heard children

a car door creak

       and no voices

        not one shout at all.

Author's Note

i never stop thinking about EVERYTHING and anything , it gets me anxious, but it helps me to think of new unknown things and i suppose it makes me smart. and now i dont catch myself arguing with this mass amount of noise in my mind-and its scary-im afraid ill lose all the memories and poems and thoughts and information i know, if i stop thinking about it, and let everything go.

but i think id rather not be so anxious.

Reviews

[Rachel Eisenberg]

You use some great imagery here, and you captured the silence of a spring morning perfectly (well... almost spring). I love the first bit, especially the part with the unused garden. I always have such grand schemes for my garden, but it never quite pans out. Good job ((and what is the last word on your image? Love is ... something ... Beautiful, maybe?)).

[Moonlit-Blues]

Lovely poem... love this, immensely! Beautifully penned!
By the way, your reason is also why I write, but also because it helps me vent and get me through the day. I had psychosis a couple of years ago, sadly. Started writing after the relationship that first followed it. I'm adding this poem of yours to my favourites because it captures the essence of what I experienced, still am experiencing in some ways. Somebody described this feeling quite adeptly, for someone who hadn't experienced it. Spiritual Warfare. Literally. I love this poem, truly, because it summarises how I feel when I hear thoughts being voiced that aren't my own. Honestly, I don't think you're schizophrenic though, because they're not ordering you to do stuff. That's how I know. =)
Sweetly done, once again. Thanks for the read.

[Tiffany Blair]

i am all about some anxiety and all being bipolar.. i would've liked to have been there