When it is just me…. A Poem

A poem dedicated to the split inside me from trauma where one feels well and the other does not.

I find myself sitting with two parts of myself.
One is at peace and present with the world around her.
The other feels afraid, weak, and unsure whether she can sleep tonight.
Two parts split across the middle.
Wondering which one will take over today.

When one feels peace in solitude, the other feels loneliness.
When one feels rested and tired, the other feels agitated and worried.
When one feels creative and inspired, the other feels wrapped in rumination.
When one feels hungry for life, the other feels nauseous and disgusted.
When one feels connected to the goddess of Mother Nature, the other feels like she walks around in a cloak of detachment.
When one feels assured and centred, the other feels frazzled and frantic.
When one feels whole, the other feels picked apart.

These two parts come home to roost when it is just me and nothing else.
They have time to visit and say hello and tell me their stories.
Often, I run to avoid the frantic one and cling to the centred one.
But then the former clings to me, and the latter runs away.
We have a complicated relationship.

But we do have one thing in common,
The desire to become one, one day.
The hope and hunger to feel well, safe, and comfortable in a place we feel is all our home.
The wish to become a family.

So when they visit, I sit on the couch, look at the mother who made me: earth, and ask them if they’d like some tea.
Then we sit together as one with no pressure to do or be anything but who we are.
And we embrace the moment.

It’s fucking scary.
It’s also liberating.

So we sit
and drink some tea.
And realize that when it’s just me, it’s a sense of wholeness and connectedness.

– Laura Rose

When it is just you, what happens?

Check out my upcoming book, Fragments, if you resonate with this writing.

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