My Subconscious and I
I am crushed beneath your waking hours
as I crawl around inside your fears.
I hear the screams behind your tolerance.
You grin and bear. You grit and carry on.
I spit the chippings down your throat
and bang my fist on the table of your teeth.
Finally, we are weeping, quietly, secretly.
I know you hear me. Why don’t you listen?
You exist in a somewhere that is nowhere.
I know I am hurting. Don’t bang my head.
Is this your message to me in a bottle?
I cannot find your shore but it’s nearby.
We stand back to back, never face to face.
I need a reflection in which to capture you
then you will understand life in my world.
I do hear you but you don’t listen to me.
Susan Wilson
If you have any thoughts about this
poem, Susan
Wilson would like to hear them
