The Corset

Stripped of cape, forced into a corset

a recurring dream

your nightly return

my free-flowing cloak, stylishly worn

drapes not my shoulders

when I see your face

your darkened aura

your strident voice

grating

restricting

compresses my organs

I fight for breath

my diaphragm won't expand

light-headed, dizzy, near fainting

causes sweating

skin chafing

an itch I cannot scratch

your nightly return

your come back

in my recurring dream

irritates my nerves

burning, stabbing pain

triggers memories

abuse

psychological

physical too

you tried to kill me

the knife, your plan

take me out in my sleep

escape, I DID; my body

my psyche remains hostage

still restricted

battles you nightly

this "too small barrel"

doesn't fit

I cannot bend

I cannot twist

I am uncomfortable

continuous wear is weakening me

I must remove it

this corset

but you won't let me

your nightly return

your come back

in my recurring dream

disrobes a cape

one I tried hard to claim

I must free myself

fight, I do; it hurts like hell

there is no freedom

in these chains

bruising

indentations deeper than skin surface

this rigid posture isn't me

you want me to stand at attention

you want me to suffer

but I must escape this trauma

I can't move

I can't remove these chords

when you are always the Sandman

coming back in the night

to haunt me

to control me

tightening this cage

whispering, "Karma"

~

Author's note: My poem reflects actual personal dreams, recurring ones, often the nightly return of my abusive ex. Once upon a time, he bantered on about "karma," but I knew the truth: it was a sick psychological game. Trauma recovery has taken years and is still ongoing.