Tombstone Land

My head now wanders through the usual sea of fog once more
I had no sleep last night.
There is no easy place to be ,  right here , in my mind.
It is either way too busy
Overstimulation piling up in log jams in my head
Or blank and eerily
Where life should be visible
Yet has sadly wandered off.
Now creeping over a grey tombstone land
Where buried thought lies hidden
Tugs at my flapping eyelids.
Slows my breathing
Leads my muscles down the well worn track to paralysis city
Where all is imagined
And nothing is possible.
Later perhaps in depth of night I will go to the crazy  cinema
I regularly have first row seats
reserved for only  the worst nightmares
Amazing how the mind twists and turns every single experience
Each throb and burn, each nerve and muscle scream
All are  locked in by paralysis to a cleverly woven plot
In which I, always the victim of evil creatures
Or being burned and maimed
Or drowned endlessly screaming
Mirror the dreadful nightmare that my body returns to
Night after night
As each cell loses its control and dissolves finally  into jelly like immobility
And stiffening pain filled joints crush my images
Into darker and  more twisted stories
Trying to raise attention and
Alert my struggling  brain to the tormented state my body has entered into
Seemingly  in its own complicity with fear and despair.
Sleep then is not refreshing,
Not ordinary
Not regular
Not comforting
Not relaxing
Not even comfortable.
And certainly not controllable even,
As I  cannot  take control of anything it seems.
There is no haven
From this torment.

The fog
Like iced water
Has penetrated everywhere
Then frozen me from the inside.
I cannot think here.
There are no thoughts to build upon
No view in site
Caught in a whirl of paralysing fog.
Surely I can describe this horror
Almost invisible from the outside.
I feel as if I am being sucked into deeper and darker pockets
of nothingness
It eddies about me
Causing nausea and giddiness.
I feel off balance
My left side has floated away
Numb emptiness replacing its solidity.
I cannot hold a conversation
Everything is  tormenting me.
I cannot even see clearly
The fog is that thick
Grey wisps stream before my pain filled eyes
I cannot make sense of the world before me
Someone is shouting
Ranting and raving
Swearing uncontrollably loudly
About what?
Nothing of significance.
I listen horrified.
That someone
Is me.


  1. This poem deserves a comment.Disturbing as it is - it is utterly brilliant. Such striking imagery.But I just hope you are sleeping a bit better Linda. I'm still taking the tablets - they've probably stolen my memory cells and my poem creating mind over the last decade but it's a toss up sometimes isn't it! A few hours out of it but at a price.

    Still in italics!! love T xxxx


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