The Trunk

On By inaloveworldIn Poems, world

by Mike L. Utley

There is a place for things
That don’t belong in
Other places
That sere and weathered
Trunk that hunkers lupine-like
Amid dust-addled attic shadows
Wood split and gouged
With time and neglect
Iron bands and fittings
A crumble of rust
Lockless clasp broken
From endless breeches
And pryings
I should have
Replaced that lock
Eons ago
The ill-fitting lid
Is too loose
More decoration
Than function
And tends to rattle
Of its own accord
Much too frequently
For what’s inside wants to
Breathe
Stretch
Pop knuckles
Champ teeth
And feed
And only I can
Contain it

I am the guardian
Of my thoughts
The gatekeeper
Of my soul
The sentinel
Who slumbers
Far too often
And I have the scars
To prove it
Pandora knew nothing
Of depression
Of the sticky ichor
That coats minds
Chokes souls
Rends hearts
Ends with
Restless bones
In paupers’ graves

There is no light
In this trunk
Rather
It devours light and life
Siphons energy
Drains minds of clarity
Its bitter harvest
A wretched bounty
Of lies and darkness

I have discarded
This trunk hundreds of times
Thousands of times
Banished it to
The furthest reaches
Of the void
And when I turn around
It’s still there
Lurking stealthily in
Tenebrous attic shadows
Slavering
Grinning
A dead-blue
Feral glow
About it that
Bespeaks of
Baleful knowledge
Best kept under
Lock and key

Mere vigilance is futile
Hyper-vigilance exhausting
This night never-ending
The callous sun
Cannot penetrate
The claptrap slats
Of my mind
I must stand
On my own
In this blackness
And fight to keep
This trunk shut
To render impotent
Its contents
To save myself
Or die trying

(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley

https://silentpariah.com

Photo by Nati

25 thoughts on “The Trunk”

  1. Pingback: “The Trunk” published at Manuela Timofte’s blog In A Love World – Silent Pariah

    1. Thanks, Beth. It’s still a struggle after all these years, that’s for sure. Depression is a monster. Your kind words mean a lot to me. Have a good Friday. 😊

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    1. Thanks, Jordyn. Hyper-vigilance most definitely leaves scars and alters the way we view everything in this world. All these years later I’m still in this mode to a degree, even though most of the people who caused the trauma in my childhood have been dead for years. Some things tarry far too long.

      I always appreciate your support. I hope your upcoming week is a good one. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

  10. Mike, this is a beautiful piece. It is sentimental and yet carries such a weight. If only we could lock those thoughts away and put them in a box. I understand that heartache that wanting to discard and move on and yet it is so much easily said than done.

    All we can do is our best, which is not always as easy and securing a lock. Not only that but is it truly healthy to forget who we are entirely. We are what we are and memories in early years form us in its shape whether it is bits and pieces of moments in a box or just something we see that reminds us of something.

    Thank you for sharing this with us on “In A Love World.” Your work never ceases to amaze me.

    Blessing and hugs my dear friend.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Joni. I remember one of my therapists from years ago telling me to visualize a trunk in which I could deposit traumatic memories and negative thoughts, a place where they’d “stay put” instead of constantly assaulting my mind. I pictured this trunk, a sort of sentient thing that hunkers in the shadows and rattles of its own accord, never letting me rest. Trauma is a little too complicated to just stick in a box and be done with it, you know? So, that therapist’s trunk exercise didn’t yield much in practice. The memories are still there, the trunk is still there, and I can’t seem to get rid of either.

      Also, for all those D&D fans out there, there’s a monster called a Mimic that takes various shapes, and in D&D games it often appears as a trunk or a treasure chest. When you attempt to open it, it attacks you, its lid opening to reveal a huge maw lined with fangs. Cool stuff. 😎

      Glad you enjoyed this one, my friend. Thanks again for the generous appraisal of this piece. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It sounds like reasonable advice, I suppose, to someone who has never been horribly abused and witnessed terrible abuse against his own mother, who loved him. She was a victim herself, but she loved you. Unless you experience this kind of abuse, many people can’t comprehend what it does to a helpless child.

        Your poem is heart-wrenching to me because I am one of those children. There is no way to forget truly; we do the best we can. This piece is a brilliantly composed set of emotions that speaks directly to people who have been subjected to watching severe physical pain inflicted against others that they love, and emotional abuse against themselves. Your writing this makes me think about hiding my turtle under my bed in a box because I was afraid my parents might kill it if I was not there. Who would believe that story? Children who live in that kind of fear.

        Thank you for sharing this Mike. It always makes me feel better knowing that we can express our feelings to someone who may benefit from hearing your splendidly written collective works.

        Big hugs my friend.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thank you so much, Manuela and Mich, for your kindness and recognition of a great talent and for your on-going support of Mike’s work. We have been following each other for at least a decade.

        Liked by 2 people

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