Nightmare

Nightmare

Each day is a drag

as I mither in the sticky treacle

of empty preoccupation.

I want to reach for something more fulfilling;;

but I can't.

Inside me the child, afraid of dark shadows,

hides beneath the warm blanket of inaction

awaiting a mother's comfort and protection.

But she never comes.

And she never will

for childhood is far behind me;

and yet still I call to her

in the darkest moments of the night

where I am haunted by emotions

never to be recalled in my wakeful consciousness.

Harsh dreams hidden deep in my soul

that torture me whenever I slip silently into slumber.

There only she can save me,

there only she can protect me,

comfort me,

from whatever troubles my Catholic guilt.

But in daylight

I am so alone.

 

11/04/16

Reviews

[andrew mitchell]

sometimes the day is just too damn scary and its safer to be cocooned in bed in comfort i sometimes feel, especially with my work and how my company works. yes i'd rather be in bed. While having my fair share of guilts through mistakes in life, thankfully religion is not one of them.

[Lyn Anderson]

"the warm blanket of inaction" -- so sums up that stalled out feeling, and the way it is somehow comforting to do nothing.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i have been stalled by that catholic guilt many times...mostly when i was younger...but i like in this poem how you juxtapose the idea of youth...the reckless abandon curbed by the fear of monsters...and the catholic thing....

interesting piece which sent me back, as i related well.

j.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you Jacob and I hope you have that guilt in check!