Topic

Jung at Heart

Where the subconscious refuses to stay quiet. This is the space for dreams that demand attention, symbols that defy logic (until they don’t), and reflections that balance self-critique with self-discovery. A place where poetry dares to play at psychoanalysis—and fails spectacularly.

Can’t You See?

Part I: The Dream I wait in a clinic, where time drips slow, Limbs heavy as stone, shadows grow. Once I soared—a whisper, a song— Now each move feels jagged, wrong. A stranger calls, his language skewed, Words stumble—his, mine—misconstrued. Monitors blink, a brittle divide, A bridge

Dreams of my Dogs

I dreamed last night of impossible births, Grey feathers shifting to fur, chirps dancing beneath a strange oak table. My two, Sig & Doof, lying there, old eyes glistening with the weight of years, straining to give me their young, yet only strange abominations spilled out. I whispered to them,

Subscribe to LayersofZoe