as i was writing my last post, about feeling stuck in the past and fearing that i may be struggling more than i realize, i couldn’t help but to think of a couple pieces that i had written, one being an essay, and the other being this poem that i wrote, while i sat in a rather soft and cozy chair in a cold, rigid treatment center, where there were too many bright and stale fluorescent lights, but it felt like one of the darkest places on earth; a poem i wrote about the days of my life that were simply cold and dark, any way you tried to look at it.
buried in snow,
i reach out,
forcing my arm through the wall,
of frozen icy crystals,
for you.
others try to help,
but i insist on waiting for you.
on a mattress on the floor,
in a locked room,
of a dark,
unfurnished apartment,
my bare skin,
pressed against your warm, naked body.
seeking comfort from those
who cause me fear,
the more you hurt me,
the stronger i cling to you.
real. raw. audrina. 