knight of cups (reversed)

i feel like i can’t interpret myself. 

i try to visualize new possibilities and i get so stuck in my eyeballs. 

i can make it to the place where visualization is but never for more than a moment before i’m pulled back to the eyes trying to focus on it. but i can’t focus on it, because it’s not seen with my eyes. so it pulls me out of the visualization space entirely. 

it’s very hard to explain, and i don’t think i did it right.

but this is the gist.

i don’t know what else to say. the knight of cups rev says to express myself, but i don’t know what language myself is. 

I don’t know how to express what i feel because i can’t even read it. i don’t understand it at all. like a foreign language inside of me- emotions. emotional knowledge. emotional language. i only feel like i can speak through it at certain moments, but i don’t know what it says half the time. 

i feel like a rainbow.

i’m red, and my emotions are violet. opposites on the scale, an entirely different frequency.

inner me speaks in tongues. he can also be quiet. he can say nothing at all, keeping our thoughts to himself. i feel so separate from him. there’s a barrier of space, inches or sometimes miles of voidspace between us, and a rickety rope bridge spanning the gap that sometimes isn’t there at all. othertimes huge swathes of planks are missing. other times still, the rope is frayed, and walking across spells danger and destruction for the bridge and whoever dared to try and cross it. 

i feel like i’m constantly miming or improvising, because inner me won’t tell me until later, whatever it is he wants to share. 

what do you want to share, inner self? 

Arnulf Rainer - Fire. 1967

anger, mostly. 

rage. 

fear. shielding. armor several selves thick. around the tender parts of me. of us. 

i don’t know a lot of the time. its hard. but its worthwhile, i know. i know this. obviously. its fine. i don’t need to prove that i know that its worthwhile to myself. he’s not even listening. the blinds are closed. he’s turned off the porch lights and barred the door. 

he doesn’t want to tell me what i need to write about because it hurts too much. but i need to know it. i need to feel it. 

i need to understand, or we will never heal from it.