| General Poetry
posted January 13, 2019 |
our inner child must live
Psychological healing
True repair
Is facilitated by
The familiar
The intimate
And...
A discerning intelligence.
Yes,
Education is helpful,
But linear.
Intellect,
With no
Well intentioned restrictions,
Is by definition,
Out of the box.
Oblique angles
Less rigidity
Less labeling
Traditional therapists
Have a need
Imposed on them
By education,
Society, judiciary,
And the eternal blindness
Of government.
Classify,
Neatly place in drawers,
Those whose need
Exceeds the abilities
Of institution.
Brain's left hemisphere-
Control, all is well.
Cages,
That are placed upon
What needs to be open.
Brain's right hemisphere,
And all that it can be.
Escape.
Find ourselves.
Un-labeled.
This idea
Of leaving our
Damaged inner child behind.
To achieve what?
Adulthood?
Eternal responsibility?
Grow up?
Such inaneness disturbs me.
I have encountered
The "dead" inner child.
When all that's happened, is-
She is in the deepest,
Darkest well.
She cannot encounter
The cruelty of the world
Any longer.
Head turned to
The dank stone.
Tears, long dried.
Her tiny hand
Brought up to
Her face.
To close forever,
Emotional input.
One must call-
Softly,
Externally,
At first.
'Till the subconscious mind,
Unknowingly,
Feels...again.
Repeated transient moments
Of safeness.
Hold dear.
Exude trust,
Love.
The womb.
Dark, safe,
Warm, floating.
Steadiness-
A heart to
Beat for you.
Just as
You must become
To raise the dead.
It can be done.
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Yes, I know inaneness is not a word.
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