Archive for torment


Posted in Life, Past, Present with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 18, 2011 by Shea Atkin

I participated in a yoga workshop with my dear friend a few months ago.  We started out with yoga, followed by a guided meditation and ended with a journal entry focused on a certain thought.  Below, I will write the thought and my journal entry about the thought:

*Don’t believe the fairytale you have created through your body.*

At a loss for word is not usually where I find myself.  This can be taken in many different ways.  Right now, my fairytale is just that–a fairytale.  Unattainable, ficticious, Pollyanna bullshit.  I never try because I don’t really believe that it is possible.  That I don’t really deserve the fairytale…I’m not good enough to wear the pretty dress and win the heart of the adoring prince.  I’m the cinderella in this distance, just dreaming–but not accepting the fairytale as potential reality.  Left with scars and memories–a window to watch the world live as I stay confined in my own little prison that I made with my own hands.  Waiting for the key to unlock and be set free, but it is already in my hand. All that needs to happen is making the decision of freedom or slavery.  No one can choose it but me.

I wear the rags as a constant reminder of the resentment against self. The riches are there, but not available until the relentless torture of self is over.  Laziness encompasses all to the point where I would like the best, but I’ll settle for the worst–because it is easy.

Sinking into nausea to escape the self absorption.  Anything to take my mind off of self. The creature that holds my thoughts captive is a reflection of self that materializes so I can embrace and accept what lies beneath the surface.

Morbidity eminent and welcomed at times to take me away from the gift of the present. Escaping the surrender that serenity has freely offered. Choosing death over life, repeatedly.

Succumbing to the lie. Evolving farther away from the truth. Trying to embrace reality on life’s terms instead of my own agenda.

Resonating from within, the sound I have been searching for has been there all along.


Recycled Vulnerability

Posted in Life, Past, Poetry, Present with tags , , , , , , , , on March 25, 2011 by Shea Atkin


Lying dormant for the right opportunity

Surfacing when emotionally available


Second thoughts materializing as the answer

Questioning logic while entertaining fantasy

Visceral reaction–sparked by letting go


Compromising trust with choice

Rarely saving reality a seat


Options infinitum


Nothing is new

All has been here before


Learning from the past

As I enjoy the present

I wait for the future

Which has already taken place


Posted in Past with tags , , , , on October 10, 2010 by Shea Atkin

“May the walls of my being be knocked down with one question

Why not sacrifice everything

For the power that drives us?

Solitude is a confinement

Which strips away everything we thing we are

To the fibers of our actual being

Reflecting is only memories of what we know to be false

Lies encompass the truth

What is the real truth?

I find myself fighting myself

Contradicting my own contradicti0ns

The petals of the flower fall away

Until only the stem remains

Hoping to rebuild what was once something beautiful

Love or hate?

They seems to be the same word

What is the difference if you feel them at the same time?

Defiled to the point of purity

Why can’t love be true?

Steel bars surround me

But only I have the power to make those bars disappear

Pursuit of the pursuit

What does it matter anymore?

The only decisions that were made were by you anyway

It doesn’t matter

Look deep inside me and tell me what is there

I don’t think I know what you will find

Maybe hurt











or sanity?

Exhaustion forces me to stay awake

And conjure up rash feeling

What am I trying to find?

I just want to know

Maybe I will tell myself one day when I find out.”

Shea 2003