Words echo and swirl, pounding dully at the frontal lobe of my skull, having risen from the base, trying desperately to make their way to the crown, to be released into the vastness of the universe that resides outside my mind.
The sound of a spirit flute wafts gently through and mingles with my essence, and yet it does nothing to soothe me; a most painful and damaging violation, being the vehicle of anothers fantastical joyride;
too much damage
nothing but lies
not enough light
And though the physical rejection of these ever present and haunting thoughts are duly noted and somewhat medicinally eased, I have yet to find the key to unlock the door that will set this monster inside me free.
A long and arduous path, this one of spiritual healing; taking back what has been ripped away, reclaiming all that has been stolen, so as to one day puzzle the pieces back together.