Her name is Trauma
I don’t remember when she moved in,
and swallowed parts of me,
I won’t ever see again.
She knows me better,
than all the others.
When I fear something,
she shoots at it,
making sure,
I survive another day.
My navy admiral she is,
leading me safely,
through the roughest waters.
Still, I drown.
In the parts of me she slaugthered,
she stole my ability to rest.
I’m not who I used to be anymore,
and I will never return to shore.
Remembering who I was.
The old me is dead.
8 thoughts on "Her name is Trauma"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
‘When I fear something,
she shoots at it,
making sure,
I survive another day.’
I relate to this a lot. When you’ve been hurt in a bad way, it’s almost impossible to go back to where you were before. But still we must carry on.
Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you! I am very happy to read your feedback. Sounds like you get what that paragraph is about.
Trauma does change us in many ways. You displayed it quite well!
Thank you!!
Trauma… the tie that binds.
Absolutely!
And oh the bitch promises doesn’t she?
My navy admiral she is,
leading me safely,
through the roughest waters.
Still, I drown.
I love you E. This was a masterful piece. I would love to see where you put this in a larger context of work.
Maybe one day you will! You will be the first to know if it happens.