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self-caged
Jan. 30th, 2009 12:15 pmYou are wise. You have overcome so much, but it hasn't hardened you, he says, and I grin. He has been sufficiently fooled. I'm doing well.
Psychoanalysis assumes that people are often conflicted between their need to learn about themselves, and their (conscious or unconscious) fears of and defenses against change and self-exposure - wikipedia
Free association – stream of consciousness. The way water falls without conscience or deliberation. In dreams, thoughts connect, grasping hands in the dark without the constraint of caution or fear of vulnerability. Cards are shuffled and laid out, queen kisses jack, joker chases queen.
Rorschach used inkblots to trick the jaw into unlocking, and riches would pour out.
You are a stone closed cave. Your tongue, Lazarus sleepwalking.
Last night as I lay floating in a spring pool, I felt a current change nearby. A body nudged me and somehow assuming it was a cavorting child I kept my eyes closed, gave a small kick to drift away from the tangle.
But the body continued to coast into me. Nudging from beneath this time I felt legs intertwining with mine slow and carefully. I continued my refusal to acknowledge it. Chin up, eyes closed. Arms laced from below, and by then too curious I let it happen. And then fingers sliding between mine and then a mouth sweet as nectarine and I could breath underwater becoming languid and drowning and then I woke, tears cold stinging like razor cuts. A fist in my throat even as I type this out.
We wake from nightmares relieved, it’s not real. Into a soft and sweeter world.
I wake from utopian dreams teased, it’s not real. Into a monochrome second home.
Psychoanalysis assumes that people are often conflicted between their need to learn about themselves, and their (conscious or unconscious) fears of and defenses against change and self-exposure - wikipedia
Free association – stream of consciousness. The way water falls without conscience or deliberation. In dreams, thoughts connect, grasping hands in the dark without the constraint of caution or fear of vulnerability. Cards are shuffled and laid out, queen kisses jack, joker chases queen.
Rorschach used inkblots to trick the jaw into unlocking, and riches would pour out.
You are a stone closed cave. Your tongue, Lazarus sleepwalking.
Last night as I lay floating in a spring pool, I felt a current change nearby. A body nudged me and somehow assuming it was a cavorting child I kept my eyes closed, gave a small kick to drift away from the tangle.
But the body continued to coast into me. Nudging from beneath this time I felt legs intertwining with mine slow and carefully. I continued my refusal to acknowledge it. Chin up, eyes closed. Arms laced from below, and by then too curious I let it happen. And then fingers sliding between mine and then a mouth sweet as nectarine and I could breath underwater becoming languid and drowning and then I woke, tears cold stinging like razor cuts. A fist in my throat even as I type this out.
We wake from nightmares relieved, it’s not real. Into a soft and sweeter world.
I wake from utopian dreams teased, it’s not real. Into a monochrome second home.
