Saturday, August 10, 2013

The Unquiet Mind: Panic/Forget

Burn #101 by David Nadal

I forget sometimes that I am insane.
I forget that there is a creature in me watching, waiting for the most inopportune moment to burst out, screaming and cursing.
I forget the part of me that whispers the most dreadful things, strikes instant terror upon the heart.
I forget the crippling cringing despair that lurks just around the corner, that voice that mostly silenced by the powers of citalopram, but that from time to time breaks free to run rampant upon the street shouting "Fire fire! Abandon ship! All hope is lost for you!"
I forget the hand grasped tight around the chest, the unbearable weight upon the beating heart, the gasping for breath.
I forget the noise inside that sends the hands up around the ears as if to protect for the air raid sirens.
I forget the nights spent curled tight, blankets drawn, to defend against some unknown enemy.
I forget the teeth clenched, jaw aching, head pounding, pulsing pain of the mind.
This forgetting is good. I suppose it means that this is no longer normal, everyday, the mundane that I just shrug and try to bear.
Perhaps it means that I am mending.
But it feels like hell when the dam is broken and I remember.

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