Patricia Harris-
Patricia Harris is a dreamer, crafter, gamer and digital artist who loves creativity in life. A half mad poet, her writing is found all over social media and various other websites. She is a devoted mom who can be found doing a variety of art when she isn’t penning poetry and writing words. She is owner of the indie publishing company Fae Corps publishing. For more from Patricia, check out www.Facebook.com/mouseypoet or pattimouse.blog
And for a reading list of her books go to https://books2read.com/rl/PatriciaHarris
And as Serena Mossgraves -
Serena Mossgraves is a twisted faery with a love of gothic settings and an urge to scare. She’s constantly on the prowl for new ways to twist old stories into dark tales that excite and terrify. If you’re also drawn to nightmares, come visit Serena on Facebook at www.facebook.com/serenitysfall Or check out her reading list at https://books2read.com/rl/serenamossgraves
Tuesday I mentioned that I was going in for an MRI. I said I would explain it today.
I have always called my issues with closed spaces Claustrophobia. I knew where I got the fear from…but NOTHING I did could overcome that. Someone once told me that there was two types of fear. The kind where you are in a life or death situation and the type where you can overcome it. For my brain the being locked in somewhere is a life or death situation. It is not Claustrophobia in the normal sense though. I told my therapist about it, and the panic that just the thought of the MRI was giving me…and she identified it as a PTSD trigger.
I survived the test. It wasn’t even as bad as I had expected it to be. It was not as bad as previous MRI’s have been. Maybe that is because I was able to prepare. I was able to compartmentalize and tell myself I was not in danger. I am no longer the nine year old child being locked in the trunk of a car and being told I will die. I am healing.
As the moonlight illuminates
the world around me,
that is when my muse awakens.
Though the whole world
is closing its eyes,
and I find myself wanting
to settle in weak and weary…
the muse is insistent
I pickup the pen
and bleed again .
Cut me open and you’ll find A brain, heart, liver, lungs And a knife in the spine
It’s chilling to know that the last place you go Might be where the fat lady sings Does it hurt? I don’t know, and where do we go? We don’t tease fragile minds with such things
So sell me down the river First help me sell my soul It’s something I know I can deliver I think we’ve finally broke the mold
It’s getting harder to know if I’m sane My issues are leaking outside of my veins Somebody save me or end me I haven’t yet made up my mind
If it leads to paranoia, boy, you might want to hit the floor Before exposure leads to a metamorphosis we can’t ignore Lost in the whisper and hung on a prayer If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there
So sell me down the river First help me sell my soul It’s something I know I can deliver I think we’ve finally broke the mold
Will I be an end to someone’s destiny? Who’s to know? And will I give right in to my aggression? Who’s to know? Will I fall apart all alone Who’s to know? Or will I shine right through And lay this hate to rest with all of you?
So sell me down the river (down the river) First help me sell my soul It’s something I know I can deliver (I can deliver) I think we’ve finally broke the mold
My 2 cents –
today I have an mri. I will try to explain in my Thursday post ….but I am trying to keep the panic away right now .
Pattimouse 