Night Terrors

He is warped, twisted,
haunting me each night.

She is banging, shaking iron
bars locking her away.

Brilliant, this little person in my mind
throwing out such fabulous words
from deep within her prison.

They are like vomit,
projecting out of me,
slimy and unorganized.
I do not want to touch them
but I am mesmerized.

Too quickly they disappear,
disinfected by him –

my perfectionist ego.

Not good enough,
not good enough,
you will never be good enough.
You fool,
stupid fool.

She does not fear him.

Night after night
she is building and rebuilding
the past, the present, the future.
The unknown.

I cannot stop listening to him.

Not good enough,
not good enough.
Do it perfectly or not at all.
You will never be good enough.

Her persistence my only hope.

*this is a revision of the poem Night Terror previously posted based on workshop suggestions.


3 thoughts on “Night Terrors”

  1. *smile* This is why I don’t go to workshops. I loved your original! I’m so sorry I didn’t say so earlier, Sarah, but I just compared them again and still find that the first one speaks to me on many more levels, most especially as a writer. Now…I’m no poet. This workshopped version is more ‘properly’ poetic, darling, I can see. But your natural instincts as a writer are to be applauded.

    I was raised by someone, by the way, who told me constantly to do things right the first time or not at all. Ugh! That is why I DON’T write! Your first version describes exactly what goes on until I finally say, “Oh f*%$ it!” and chase the humblest of words onto the page come what may. No brilliance such as was just twirling through my mind, but oh well, just humble words, but better than capturing none at all.

    I’m glad you sent through the link again.


  2. I read the original too and am pleased to have been ab le to read both.
    To me you have expressed so well the creative process and the contradictions and frustrations and procrastinations etc that occur when setting to.
    It spoke to me on another level also – that of a much more personal one – I like that it conveys the feeling of both.

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