Stranger in My Brain

Enjoy another piece from my Embracing Darkness collection.

There’s a stranger in my brain. She let herself in a while ago. I asked her to leave, but she wouldn’t. Now, she sits there all comfortable with a smug look on her face. She used to stay out of my way, someone in the corner of my eye. Not anymore.

There’s a stranger in my brain. She shouts and screams at me. She beats me and leaves me bleeding on the floor. The abusive little bitch kicks me when I’m down and won’t let me get up. I’ve fought back plenty of times, but she’s strong. 

There’s a stranger in my brain. She locked the door and shut the curtains so I can’t see the light. They block out the world and the people along with it. I found a way to stay in contact for a while, found others who understood and helped me fight her.

There’s a stranger in my brain. She hates my friends. She’s jealous of them and their growing happiness while she and I struggle to find it. She said I didn’t need them, and I only needed her. We were better off alone. The bitch tricked me.

There’s a stranger in my brain. I see her sneer in the mirror, see the vileness in those eyes that used to hold so much shine. They don’t shine anymore. She stole my shine, my perkiness, my cheerfulness. 

There’s a stranger in my brain. She laughs now I have no one. She made me push everyone away, the only people who gave a shit about me. She taunts me and now I’m alone with this stranger in my brain.

Image by MLARANDA from Pixabay 

A Fantasy in Darkness


Check out more from my Embracing Darkness series.

Darkness consumes me in its obsidian, a welcome relief from the blinding light of day. It wraps me in its coldness, and I let it. A black veil draws closed another day, and here, in my stillness, I have only myself.

I am free, yet Darkness traps me in my own imagination. It follows me like a shadow. Never ceases. Never strays. Never stops. Constant thoughts battle in deafening war of truths and lies. They steal the reality of the light and turn them into what I please.

Fantasies grown from a single seed, and I reap the bounty as if famine had denied my imagination of its sustenance. Vines of lies and illusions twist and entwine, but all I see is life and beauty in this dark place. Why can I not see the lie?

I reach for what I think is real only to grasp at air that chokes me. I lose myself in the toxicity of it. Breaths do not come, only retching and agony. Fallen, I flail, reaching for something sturdy, a hand, a rail, anything that can help me up. But here I stay on the floor in my darkness with the fantasies and lies.

Tell me the truth. Why lie?

Image by Kellepics at pixabay.com.