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Alone I feel myself slipping into the darkness of an abyss. Drowning grasping at complete nothingness with a stinch of death and despair. Mind racing of thoughts I normally can’t recall, viewing in my mind like a slideshow. Continuing to fell myself fall, sharp pinch, I’m not dreaming! I try screaming but no sounds escape my lips, growing more frantic Now I begin to panic there’s no more holding it together! Ascending, descending unsure if I’m alive or dead, possibly a night terror? All the torment throughout my life I’ve endured, No light at all ahead. Horrors of my life’s trauma, driving me bat- crazy all the devastation and loss. On my chain I wear a cross, I’ve hit rock bottom yet still continue to sink. I don’t like it here preferring refuge of my captures slum although fearsome I am. There up is up sometimes slanted down always down even though at red oblique. Someone with regard, taking my hand, not taking me for granted seeing unique. This is possibly my plot ending or merely exposition of my story…. Trauma that can’t be forgot reenacting memories I hold dearly! .. . Caroline Foister Only new 9/17/19

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 9/22/2019 6:58:00 AM
The raw truthfulness of this surprised yet horrible feeling is all over this poem. Especially in this line: "On my chain I wear a cross, I’ve hit rock bottom yet still continue to sink." I am clapping and my muse Trixie is whistling for you!
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Caroline foister
Date: 11/16/2019 11:16:00 PM
gee im blushing ?? i promise to only submit my best work on here...