Raw Earth Ink
spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Under the Sheets, In My Head
I pull the sheets up to my chin. There are monsters here, but they aren’t out there. No, they reside within. Snapping their powerful jaws and flexing their pointed claws. They dig inside my brain and find all the worst parts of me.
“You will never be more than a smear beneath the boot the Others.” Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me twice. I know I will never measure up. I know I’ll never be enough. I know I’m pathetic and weak and strange. You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already believe.
I check the knobs on the stove once, twice, better check them again. You can only scrub the dirt off these hands for so long. Door locked? It doesn’t help. Neither do these sheets. It’s all within. Don’t bother digging around, I’ve seen it all before.
Still, I grip the sheets tighter and squeeze my eyes closed. What is this on my cheeks? My pillow? Damn it, we’ve been over this. It never helps. Tears. Blood. (drip-drip-drip… so pretty on my skin, on the tiles) Screaming. Scratching. Rocking forward, back. Forward, back. Nothing ever helps. Nothing… except the moon and the stars and soft fur and gentle eyes and a hug and a smile and nothing except the hope of love, love, love.
tara caribou | ©2021
22 Comments on “Under the Sheets, In My Head”
Raw Earth Ink 
A haunting, poignant piece!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for reading this one Tom
LikeLiked by 1 person
🫂
LikeLike
what a trip, excruciating, but with hope none the less. the antithesis might be to hide from ones monsters in denial? – either extreme is damaging, but it feels like reality albeit negativity leaves the desire to hold out in hope. denial can’t be treated. loved it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You read right into the heart of the matter.
LikeLike
I’m under my sheets right now because I just called out of work.🤣🤣 Good job though!
LikeLike
Self-loathing or abuse from another…either way somehow one has to find the strength to see the light. Disturbing but superbly captured, Tara.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s a fight to keep looking to the light.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Having seen your work you are more courageous than you may realize. A monster killer for sure.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! Yes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hear you on this. Staying in my sheets, not wanting to get out, usually means I have to face myself fully, so heavy with my own demons I can’t move. I agree nothing really works until we allow Love to move us, to surrender to the stars, the moon and the air, the light of the day. What a beautiful writing, it truly moved me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s exactly it, too. Clinging to reality rather than the lies.
LikeLike
Damn…this is pure fire…stunning…imagine the spoken word….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much Navin
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome Tara
LikeLike
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
LikeLike
Absolutely stunning, Tara! Stay blessed
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Diana 💕
LikeLike
Wow! Very moving piece. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad this touched you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This piece hits so close to home. And you conveyed it masterfully.
The real monsters reside in our mind; that’s where they really torment us.
We push forward ✨
LikeLiked by 1 person
We most certainly do. There’s no other way.
LikeLike