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Finding lost words

January 11, 2018

When the the limbic system (the part of the brain that processes emotion) is overwhelmed, the part of the brain responsible for language is temporarily disabled. Interesting then that I am always striving to put into words that which seems to defy definition: these fairly regular intense feelings that appear to have roots in my past. Perhaps I am trying to fill an earlier space in cognition, or am driven by a desire to describe the moments when I have lost my voice, to finally be heard. I've learnt that validation is extremely important to emotional well-being, us human beings need our experiences to be acknowledged if we are to relate healthily. To this aim I write, and it feels as if the words I pour out, which can take hours to sift through and make sense of, are waiting to be spoken aloud to the universe. Perhaps this is an integral component of healing; being heard. 

 

Here is the result of my latest impulse to write. I'm not presenting it as a work to be appreciated as such, I am not even sure what to call it, although it looks like poetry on the page. My words are accompanied by a photograph of the some of the space I was staring into as I wrote... If you hear me, hola back...

 

Twinge – a work in progress. 11/01/18

 

That which I lost;

which I never had…

My game, my deceit,

not knowingly

or with deliberate intention;

self-subterfuge to a degree

attempting to master old wounds

and re-write history.

 

That which I lost decades ago

small and defenceless as I was

overwhelmed by overwhelm,

without wisdom

with insecure attachment:

a complex trauma

insignificant, but to me.

 

Broken into a void, unnoticed

shattered into silence;

a system in smithereens.

The fluttering emptiness in my chest

is distracting, even painful

and words I’ve lost too,

everything becoming sensation

before disassociation.

 

Recollection makes my palms warm,

these surroundings appear surreal

layered with twinges in nerve endings

if I’m not careful, I forget to breath.

The present eclipsed by a shadowy past,

and in this moment,

I am lost.

 

 

 

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© Zoe Catherine Kendall 2019, Fine Artist