Because some mornings I wake up
near screaming.
Bleating out through the ether
and the interstitial plane
between what’s locked down
deep dark in my brain,
where my waking mind dares
not tread most days.
When surfacing upon waking
like a creature from
the bottom of the sea spouting,
sometimes shouting
the words I should have said
to protect and defend myself.
Magic potent words summoned
from unconscious depths,
unlocked from chests
like sunken treasure,
rising, rising, rising now
to the surface with the dawning sun
as I open my mouth before my eyes
to spew out finally the truth.
The truth to break the spell of abuse.
I wonder if they dream of me?
Because they still haunt my darkest dreams.
