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Silence.
Only
A soul can hear
And understand.
Is what
I seek.
In muzzling
My inner critic
Permanently.
Reclaiming
What's every child's
Birthright:
Self-confidence
And self-esteem.
By undoing
A lifetime
Of destructive comments
And brutal body blows
To the soul.
At times
My psychic pain
Is too much.
As I shrink
Ever smaller
Into a space
Of lost hope.
As the words
Logic and sanity
Are only found
In a dictionary.
Depression
And extreme anxiety
Sink their talons
Deep
Into my soul.
Simple act
Of opening and exiting
My apartment door
Takes on
Heroic measures.
As I cower
In my bedroom.
Shedding tears
Of frustration
And shame.
Knowing
Only last week
I could do so
With the greatest
Of ease.
Wondering
How long
My jail sentence
Will be
This time.
Before
The cycle changes
In granting me
Parole.
Until
The next time
I'm held hostage
Within my apartment.
Therisa © 2016
Therisa © 2016
Author's note: My last bout of agoraphobia, occurred, during the summer of 2014, lasting 3 months, before I was able to leave my apartment, without any assistance. Marking my second cycle of agoraphobia, within the past 6 years.
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