Phantom Stitches.

Somebody taps a chisel,

into a phantom nerve end,

my body racks and wriggles,

as I wake up screaming again,

somebody drives a freight-train,

through thinly-laid dreamscape,

somebody else is using my name,

and handing out my handshake,

someone is chasing me constantly,

anytime I look his face is somewhere,

like a silent horror that’s stalking me,

with a presence that’s everywhere,

somebody rips up the stitches,

the sound of Velcro against my screams,

the scenery changes and switches,

but the stitches are ripped out unfailingly,

somebody please tell me,

this isn’t the best of recovery,

that spending more time in therapy,

will allow the stitches to dissolve naturally.


4 thoughts on “Phantom Stitches.

  1. doubtpuppet says:

    Powerful well written poem this one.
    Easy to read, nice metaphors, nasty subject. The velcro idea is perfectly sick.
    Reminds me of Pure O(OCD) straight fromt he first line.
    Nice nod to Inception there – love that film. And that metaphor works so well for PTSD I think.
    Let’s face it – these afllictions suck ass and we’d switch them off in an instant if we coul;d. But in the meantime they make for some bloody good poetry I think. And who knows, maybe someone with the condition who doesn’t know what they have will stumble on it one day and it will help them join the dots. That’s why I started writing poems about OCD anyway.