Poem: Into the Mirror – 16/11/19

 He stares at himself: 
 who is this being he has become?
 He barely recognises the shapes, the forms,
 the features which make up his fasmall-poem-mobilece.
 Now, they are a conglobulation,
 his eyes scan the scene,
 a personal level of understanding
 of what is occurring beneath the surface of 
 lucid dreaming.
 His mind is in tatters,
 his anger explosive, 
 A feeling of overwhelming loss of control,
 his triggers, oh, those triggers.
 Abounding his sense of being,
 ripping his heart out, 
 either broken or whole;
 he’s completely lost all sense of control. 
 His face now shape-shifts, 
 as though a desert mirage,
 strangely he feels a tip-tip-tapping at his head,
 his crown,
 and he wonders at these, 
 are they delusions?
 Or are they borne in reality?
 He cannot be himself right now,
 because his understanding of who he is
 is no longer so upstanding. 
 He pierces his gaze into his right eye
 and then the left,
 hoping to calm himself
 or at least instill a sense of order —
 perhaps rigid or subtle
 but wholly still there.
 He knows what process he is undergoing,
 For him, it is brought on by stress, 
 A psychosis long having been in the making,
 He is in the eye of the cycle now.
 He won’t tell anyone close to him 
 what he is experiencing,
 the suffering and angst that he is feeling,
 because that is how he is, 
 he’s introverted and with inner feeling,
 not wanting to burden others with
 his sense of broken state of being.
 No matter how much he might yearn for
 a level of understanding
 or care,
 he does not receive this because of his situation
 others are not aware.
 They are not sure what is wrong with him
 but his anger, oh his anger does give rise
 to something purely animalistic,
 and now having revealed his state of mind to another,
 the understanding ticks over, it arrives in ample time. 
 He is strong for holding himself quietly
 while he attempts and succeeds at fixing himself,
 but when it comes to issues of mental health,
 one must not take it upon themselves to reduce dosages,
 essentially self-medicating oneself.
 The man now in the mirror with his mediation is strong,
 he has permitted the real being to return, 
 he’s gladdened his essence has come back along,
 no longer having to control the 
 rising sense of discomfort and lack of control 
 he had experienced as a whole. 
 © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.  

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