Some days it comes upon you in crushing waves, you can’t hear it but you can feel the pressure pressing in your ears. The monstrous mounting curl of the push to birth your creative thing plunges you to the bottom of your own inner abyss.
Your hands are fierce but helplessly slow against the darkness all around.
Everything you try to touch becomes punishingly deep and quiet as black ice.
You don’t dare breathe.
This is the place, the sanctuary, the cave, the distance between the two of ‘you’ who try to exist in a world neither quite recognize, where neither quite belong.
This is the altar you lay naked on and trust the light will come. You keep your eyes closed and listen with your nerve endings. You open your mouth and find your breathing but it’s not the same kind.
Some days the Muse is a beautiful beast so powerful you can scarcely believe you let her in.
And on these days, when you surface again and tell no one, what’s done is done.
Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.
All my deepest love and mad affection. x