The Unknown, that is
You’ll never know which one it’ll be
When the lights dim and consciousness fades...who will be on the other side waiting for me?
Will I be defiled again?
Will u lose control...again?
Will I drown...again?
Will I be able to fight it?
I know I can endure it...but
damn so painful
damn so hurtful
damn so so draining
damn...
I can feel my eyes sag now; oh how heavy they feel
But which is worse: trapped in fear or trapped in anticipation of fear?
It’s rhetorical, don’t answer that.
THAT is for me to decide.
I decide and know what my pain tolerance is.
I decide what is and is not okay.
I. DECIDE. Me. No one else. Leave me alone.
Do not tell me it is okay.
Do not tell me to forget about it.
Do not tell me I need to let it go.
Do. Not. Tell. Me. What. To. Do.
Alas I find myself in a rocking boat and my hands are tied.
If my eyelids betray me, my fate is decided within a bargain—
A: my soothing boat turns to rage and I flip and sink.
B: my body shrivels up underneath the sun and becomes dysfunctional.
Decisions, decisions.
Decisions of what?
Decisions of The unknown.
and yet, a single thought of You brings me enough peace and joy to move on...one day at a time.
7/3/19 01:07
{Two sleep or not to sleep. One sentence to sum up this whole poem.}
~V.S.R.R.
Photo: Museum District in Houston, TX, USA; by Megan Oldroyd
I definitely need to change how I interact with the unknown