bigouie's Journal

When I am in the dark, the real dark, not the scare yourself, something may be there dark, the real dark.

When there are piercings in yourself that take your breath away that come and go like a spark.

When the spinning wheel in my mind goes off it's spindle; and rolls ribbons of visions into a pile,

there and there another thought not extinguished by the meds, just foggy in the trial.

Beautiful Rem sleep is the impossible lover you wish to tightly and deeply embrace,

The harder you try the faster it goes and more memories tumble out in the space.

Keep it, Keep it all you want to scream until your voice is wispy and cannot make a sound.

I am looking in the Dark the Real Dark for the Monsters I was afraid might be found.

For they may know the way to make the wheel of thoughts to stop, and leave me alone.

For there seems to be no pill to get the job done before I am up in pain to stretch and groan.