Defiant

Poetry

woke up Sunday morning to the light

streaming through the curtains,

but I was caught in the dark sea

of my own mind’s making, churning

planting my feet on the floor failed

to ground me to this plane of sense,

and I wished I had a steady brain

that did not quake minute by minute

even as I closed my eyes, trying

to fill up with deep, deep breaths,

my thoughts scrambled for cover

in a raging internal earthquake

holding steady (deep, deep breath)

did nothing to aid me as I crashed

under wave upon wave of unease,

my anxious hands floundering

you would think I would know better

than allowing my sparring mind to keep

me forever moving on the defensive,

each point leaving me outmatched

but my eyes blaze open, ready

to take a stand with myself,

and I won’t lose any more than

what’s been taken from me already

it’s easy to say, “try harder,” but

you can’t see the ants crawling

under my skin each moment

that I stand still and try to hide

yes, I’ll try another day, again,

without waving a white flag

because I need to see myself,

victorious, against the strain

Originally published at https://vocal.media.