Did He

Stories of car wrecks and dead drivers haunt my dreams.

Reminding me of painful things I'd never wish to see. 

Making me wonder about details I shouldn't ponder.

Would it ease my heart to know or cause more pain if the truth is hard?

Thoughts come unbidden. 

Did he see the truck turn in front?

Did he hear the metal bending?

Did he perceive the tires skidding?

Did he feel the bones shatter?

Did he sense lungs filling with blood?

Did he struggle for a breath?

Did he see darkness coming for him?

Did he fight darkness or

                           did he welcome it, 

                                   knowing the escape it would bring?

Did he hear the prayers of a stranger?

Did he feel the touch of a hand?

Did he know that he was leaving?

Did he realize we would miss him?

Did he know I loved him?

-Cynic Ninja

Scarlet Letter

Like the fictional character from The Scarlet Letter, I felt like I had a big red A emblazoned across my chest at church today. Like everyone could see exactly what I was. Once again, the chest and abdomen restricted feeling happened immediately following the words being shared. I was so hyper-focused on breathing that it was essentially impossible to hear the rest of her words. I didn’t come to church to have that come up and think about but that’s what I got. I wanted to get up and leave. Not hear any more. Not think any more. But that would draw more attention to a red letter A walking out of the room early.

-Cynic Ninja

Midnight Thoughts

How hot does a shower need to be to burn away thoughts and clean the dirty? 119 degrees Fahrenheit is apparently not hot enough. After standing under the pelting scalding spray for half an hour, the thoughts are still here. I put off sleep, dreading what the dreams have for me tonight. The prospect of tomorrow’s talk looms over me causing distress. Why is this coming up now, again? I do not want to deal with this. But I can't keep going with life being like the past four days. Four days that have seemed like two weeks. 

When we were talking on the couch downstairs, I felt like I was shattering all over again. As you talked, I wanted to scream. “Hold me, reach out and touch me, anchor me because I’m falling apart.” But I was afraid of being rejected, pushed away, and couldn’t reach out. It took all of my concentration to hold myself together. I wanted to cover my ears, blocking out the words leaving your mouth. Words and thoughts and memories and feelings I hadn’t felt or thought about in so long. I wanted to stop them all. Now I’m facing the prospect of all these memories again without an anchor beside me. 

-Cynic Ninja    

Immobile Panic

I forgot about the whole body tenseness

when thinking about this topic.

It starts in my toes and creeps upwards.

My legs are on high alert,

my arms tight,

breath shallow and

barely there.

My whole outer self

shrinks inward.

Making a desperate attempt

to seek shelter somewhere deep inside.

I see it all

over

and

over again;

playing in a continuous loop.

I am above

looking down

and feel absolute

immobile 

              panic.

Cynic Ninja