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The invasion

I am untouchable here;
deeply wrapped in this cell under the wicked teeth of the unconscious.
Eager to capture time in my logic compass,
that worm persistently bites me, the polluted side of me
swimming in my anemic body.

I can only spin around inside my strong heartbeat
and believe that the agony will stop,
but electric dreams play with my lucidity
inside that silk wave.
The scene I’m about to dream and dream of, again and again.

A dream where life is discovering or maybe
twists the space where reality breathes,
pulling tightly into my bones.

And though I’m sinking in
the dark red uterus of dream and reality,
I will not dream of a horrible life
when I have torn my limbs
and prevented them from forming into unattractive.

I returned to myself this morning.
I found myself staring into the back of my eyes,
unconsciously following geometric patterns with fingertips,
constantly.
I am not the number of those full blue lines
that intersect with light,
I’m a blank white space in the middle of the hexagon,
I’m an emptiness.
Memory is old but familiar.

In a night of deep sleep,
someone touches me,
caresses my body,
kiss my mouth.
I can’t open my eyes.
I can’t move at all.
I’m fighting a dream that keeps me alert,
in panic and fear,
trying to run away
because it touches me without my consent.

It looks like someone is trying to wake me from my dream,
not wanting it to be abrupt.
She already tried calling my name,
shaking my shoulders,
selects a moment of romanticism in the Sleeping Beauty version,
and decides to wake me with a kiss,
not knowing how that will scare me,
what’s the trigger for my trauma,
because I rarely talk about such things.

As I was turning yesterday into a thought full of needles,
this memory comes back in all its glamor.
Sensations on my skin,
my lips,
my helplessness,
my panic
when I’m unable to shake myself to sleep.

I can’t set boundaries,
unable to stop this invasion of my body.
I remind myself over and over again:
Now I’m sure.
I’m sure because it’s not real,
my eyes are wide open, aren’t they?

As I calm my breathing and struggle,
and the understanding of everything I was aware of before escapes with absolute clarity,
knowledge with a pure crystal circle of truth arises above my gaze.
Suddenly I realized why I was so upset.
The truth that my psyche has blocked has developed an understanding.

This isn’t the first time,
this wasn’t the first invasion on me,
this is only the beginning.

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