Nowhere.

 

 

There is no place to run

no hiding place at all,

no place of safety left to you

when the ‘Terrifyers’ call.

They sit upon your shoulder

as you slowly lose your mind

no reason and no logic,

no safe place for to find.

© sweetwater 2020
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critique and comments welcome.
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Bhi

I felt the onset of anxiety as I read this.

We all have our “magic palaces” into which we can retreat, but life has a way of changing the locks and hiding the keys.

Gee

The worst terrors are those we inflict upon ourselves. We can’t escape them, we carry them with us wherever we go. I think the Terrifyers is a good name for it and this is a good description of how it makes us feel.

Griffonner

Angst? Yes. Observation? Yes. You cleverly pen this with few words.

Perhaps we must create places of refuge and freedom within ourselves, do you think?

Allen
x

Stormwolf

I really understand this short poem. It is bold and truthful.
Those buggers occasionally come to me as well (and my son. )

If you are describing acute anxiety attacks, especially those that come in the night, I understand totally.

If however, you are describing something else like sleep paralyses / night visitations, drop me a line.
Poets tend to be super-sensitive and so unfortunately are open to this kind of thing.
There ARE ways to win. It involves never giving in to fear (easier said than done I know. )

Alison x

Last edited 1 month ago by stormwolf
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