Lassitude

I sit with silent lassitude

unable to determine

If I am sane. Or like the rabbit;

have I gone crazy?

I count all my fingers, I count all my toes

I touch my face, my eyes, my nose,

My lips and my ears, am I whole?

The times I have sat before the mirror

the times that I have stared, uncomprehending;

it now all comes together.

For whilst in the darkest of my shadows,

there is no truer delusion than the one that the

Brain does not want to face, that it is no longer

in control, and that the emotions, the tears and the fears

they are the ones manning the barricades.

Barricades that bend and sway beneath the brutal tide

as it tries to break it’s way in, to shred and to eat.

Whilst outside, I am ignorant aware only slightly that

something might be off.

It is only when I begin to really sense the a-kilter of my mind

do I realize that the devil and his minions have come to play

To tear me down and rake my soul, making me believe I can be no more.

Delusions and braggarts, fears and tears, the domicile of my being.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Feb 22/17

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