These compartments
so cluttered with debris
flinging open the window
fresh air stirs the trash
still it catches unawares
they all stop and stare
no one seems to understand
so many compartments
take up a lot of space
some have lids
but have to be mashed
down to hold it all in
with giant nails of
cast iron, they don't
always hold. To weak
against the forces of
out of control that fill
and capture these
compartments of the
soul
Author notes
Sometimes I wonder if any one really knows me at all and if not why do they NOT read what I write and discover who I really am? I am NEVER and I do mean never more ME than I am when I write! I write what I feel deep inside, what I think and what I want and what I know is seen and felt and read in what I write. The real me is who I am most comfortable being when I write and it makes me so sad that people think they know me and they don't really know me at all because they don't read what I write! Words are like the blood in my veins, I treasure the written word and I honor it by giving myself to it completely and one hundred and ten percent.......to know me is to read the writing on the walls of my soul!
Does life ever become so enormous that you have to put things in seperate compartments so they don't drive you insane?
Comments
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oops forgot the applause
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The answer to you question in your AN is yes. It is called compartmentalizing. I learned this from my old therapist. All people compartmentalize through opaque boxes. My problem, which is why I have the DID, is that my boxes are not opaque so they can not be seen through. That is why I can relate so much to this piece. We are the same in the fact that we express ourselves, our most deep inner selves in our writing. It is a great therapeutic tool. So keep writing and purging yourself in this form. A lot more people get you then you know.
Love you Sis
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