Inside My Mind
by Casey Bisted
She was born two days ago. It wasn’t a conventional
birth with blood and pain and ear
shattering screams. She was born in the quiet
in that dull, senseless doom. She has no name,
but why would she? We know each other all too
well. Her hope. My sorrow. Together become
one. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. Togetherness.
She was born two days ago. I don’t think she
was with me before. I don’t think she was conceived.
Maybe she was, but with all the pain, I
can’t remember. I just remember her coming.
She popped out of me in a wave of beautiful,
horrible light. I remember the steady rhythm
of her inside me pushing to get out. It almost
drove me mad. I think I am better now.
She was born two days ago. It is all a different
hazy memory stored away in a library on a distant
planet. I wish I could remember life before
this. I wish it was easy like that. I could live
and love and learn. Yesterday she said to me
Semira should run away from the past, forgive,
and forget. I replied by saying why should I do
that? Semira should learn life goes on, and she
will be happy. I couldn’t see her face. It was as
if a body was speaking, but from the neck up
a horrible black fog was masking her features.
Nothing could be seen but a blank canvass.
Words were coming from somewhere. They
were telling me what to do. They were comforting
and enraging at the same time. Why should
I listen to someone whose motives I couldn’t
see?
She was born two days ago. Her optimism is
endearing. She is the opposite side of me. My
offspring wild and optimistic, giving me hope.
I don’t know how I could have produced such
a happy innocent being, but it makes me sad.
I was like that once before the hurt, before the
sorrow. I think she is trying to be my therapist.
She’s trying be a comforting light in the
dark, but I can’t go back to who I once was,
not after Jimmy. Not after the birth of his
stillborn child. I was a sweet person before the
death of my emotions.
She was born two days ago. She was born in
the hospital that was and still is my mind,
with her midwives my thoughts, and her wet
nurses my sadness. She is a person of my own
imagination. I think she wants to take us over.
I think she wants this body to be hers, so she
can be painfully optimistic. I think she wants
me dead. I think she thinks I’m insane. She will
take over, and I will be gone forever. I will be
Hello world. It’s great to be out in the open. It’s
great to be free.
by Casey Bisted
She was born two days ago. It wasn’t a conventional
birth with blood and pain and ear
shattering screams. She was born in the quiet
in that dull, senseless doom. She has no name,
but why would she? We know each other all too
well. Her hope. My sorrow. Together become
one. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. Togetherness.
She was born two days ago. I don’t think she
was with me before. I don’t think she was conceived.
Maybe she was, but with all the pain, I
can’t remember. I just remember her coming.
She popped out of me in a wave of beautiful,
horrible light. I remember the steady rhythm
of her inside me pushing to get out. It almost
drove me mad. I think I am better now.
She was born two days ago. It is all a different
hazy memory stored away in a library on a distant
planet. I wish I could remember life before
this. I wish it was easy like that. I could live
and love and learn. Yesterday she said to me
Semira should run away from the past, forgive,
and forget. I replied by saying why should I do
that? Semira should learn life goes on, and she
will be happy. I couldn’t see her face. It was as
if a body was speaking, but from the neck up
a horrible black fog was masking her features.
Nothing could be seen but a blank canvass.
Words were coming from somewhere. They
were telling me what to do. They were comforting
and enraging at the same time. Why should
I listen to someone whose motives I couldn’t
see?
She was born two days ago. Her optimism is
endearing. She is the opposite side of me. My
offspring wild and optimistic, giving me hope.
I don’t know how I could have produced such
a happy innocent being, but it makes me sad.
I was like that once before the hurt, before the
sorrow. I think she is trying to be my therapist.
She’s trying be a comforting light in the
dark, but I can’t go back to who I once was,
not after Jimmy. Not after the birth of his
stillborn child. I was a sweet person before the
death of my emotions.
She was born two days ago. She was born in
the hospital that was and still is my mind,
with her midwives my thoughts, and her wet
nurses my sadness. She is a person of my own
imagination. I think she wants to take us over.
I think she wants this body to be hers, so she
can be painfully optimistic. I think she wants
me dead. I think she thinks I’m insane. She will
take over, and I will be gone forever. I will be
Hello world. It’s great to be out in the open. It’s
great to be free.