My Reflections by Lucid

This was written after spending time under the influence of Cathy Venus’s hypnosis sessions.

And for what?  For want of acceptance, inclusion, purpose?

I see Her…

In prelude to my every trance, interrogating my every intended word, contemporary in my every moment of reflection.   I see Her not, yet She is there.  Her influence tightening, constricting, smothering.  Its velvet coil now intertwining my every thought, manipulating my discernment.  What She expects? What She wants?

With effortless grace…

She challenges my every introspection.  The sweetest of whispers concealing the sharpest of edge.  Oh God such abominable guilt!  Slicing, ripping, tearing; such barbaric abrasions.  And yet, under guise of nurture, my appetite forages for Her attention.  It matters not; She is here now, intensifying my stigma.

I can’t breathe…

She chains me, fetters my desires, binds me by my contrition.  And yet She won’t brand me, claim me.  Oh such savage reparations for lack of graces!  Most foul, foul torment.  And then again the mirror…oh the reflection, a shadow, a shell…what once was, what once was.  Silent screams releasing nothing.

Irrevocable now?

Thus enchanted, I did indeed succumb, thus enthralled, I did indeed submit, and thus intoxicated, I did indeed surrender.  And yet, My God!   This fervid craving never ends.  Oh wreck.  Oh most torrid, torrid wench am I, flaying in flame whence others find warmth.

Why can’t I breathe?

And for what?  For want of acceptance, inclusion, purpose?

Lucid.