'trauma'
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Spawned and cognizant of
Riches and chronicle,
Peering turned glances to knives
From a painted monocle,
While the heart of a rose
Stays inure,
Whisps of soul tend
To be lured.
Trauma is like a foul tasting fondue. When you're stuck in that space all life events or experiences are ran through the trauma fondue.
Dripping with horror, tremor, fear, and angst.
he's gone I remind myself he can’t hurt me anymore but i wake up from nightmares and i’m not so sure he's round every corner in every dark space I can't close my eyes without seeing his face he sabatoges my happy and disinigrates all nice
dear God,
with a capital G,
is their any way i can say this simply?
how do i tell mom
that i don't know what's wrong with me?
that my brain steals
locks
hides
memories
Sunshine gleams
and warms my scar covered arms,
and my scar covered insides.
The soothing warm breeze leaves gentle kisses
on my broken body,
and my broken heart.
I used to have my very own polaroid camera
It was pale yellow,
My favorite colour at the time
I loved it.
When I first got it,
It came everywhere with me
School, bike rides, parties
Everywhere
Back and forth
I rock
Don't want to be crazy
Like in the movies
But I can't stop it
Back and forth
They shout
Insults
Pain
Rage
Back and forth
They go
In love
Panic is a bathroom sink,
Grime-covered and overflowing,
Tearing the skin off my hands
With its vicious heat splashing,
Burning cold through spilled ink.
For lack of better words
You instill and distill my love
Like alcohol in a glass.
Bitter and dangerous,
But still on these streets.
You use me like a drunk
And I’ve got no choice.
I am at war with my borders, constantly pushing the limits and disregarding any resistance. White flag waving with good intentions, though I know this is hostile territory.
never censor the dirty words.
unleash the violet memories of
your violent childhood:
lilac frocks and pomegranite seeds
and leftover boo-boos
because sometimes
daddy couldn't see you
