There were giants in the lands
that sub-blessed afternoon.
In the distance and in these hands.
At my soles and in the sand.
And at my feet is where their feet begin.
A solstice day that might never end.
The titan in my head marches on,
hungry and proud of the days to come.
Of the day when two become one.
Rather when one becomes the only.
The one who was always so lonely.
But I want to be with him.
To be there for him.
Yet he is me.
Though I not him.
Awake in a dream, waiting to be seen.
A steep mountain to climb and fall from.
A slow death to which I succumb.
***
For a few months now, there’s been this character in my head that I’ve been struggling to communicate with. And since I’ve recently found myself more capable of getting into my intuitive space, I’ve heard a little more from her.
I didn’t know her name or gender until I had finished the poem. Her name is Dawn and she suffers from Dissociative Identity Disorder. Or at least that’s the best way I can make sense of it at the moment. This poem was one of my attempts to talk to her but she’s clearly got more pressing concerns. She’s got a story to tell me and I’m not going to give up on her.
It feels like this giant inside her mind was borne from a dream. And this dream is haunting her. Or maybe it’s something more. I don’t know, but I want to. That feeling is familiar. I’ve felt it strongly, if only for a moment, after waking up dozens of times, so I think I can help. I want to help her keep her sense of self while she fights this war in her head.
This is progress. I’ve gotten bits and pieces all year. This is just the biggest chunk yet.
mack rogers writes 