I take comfort
in the enveloping darkness.
A refuge from the beastliness
of ages
of beatings upon my heart.
Endured,
but eventually upended.
Landed,
not on my feet.
Prone.
Head covered.
A slave to rising ,
as who else will attend
to the essentials.
Anesthetizing.
Hours of tube, soothed
my anxious resistance
to re-engaging,
distracted with resulting
headaches from endless hours
of focused non-focus.
Fear grips me still, and will.
PTSD?
What a cliché.
My stirring memory
assures clarity
of what to leave to dust,
who not to trust.
I bathe now in kindness,
and bliss,
and peace.
Yes.
Alone in darkness.
That’s where I trust.
Yes.