Shard-Strewn Waves
I think I’m healed
Mostly I am…
But that doesn’t stop the occasional unbidden ripping of my heart
At the sight of a blue or gray uniform, a government car,
A familiar face triggering menacing memories.
A familiar face triggering menacing memories.
My eyes dilate with the fresh sensation of silky voices with rough hands jammed hard across our muffled grief,
Disguised as heroes, acting as villains.
Doesn’t stop the sudden mental jolt from a snuggly video session on the couch
To places where I learned that institutional justice is sold to the biggest liars,
Rehabilitation is a rip-off, a joke with an abusive punchline,
And people I trust to fold sheets of truth into protective doves
Might origami them into slander swords instead.
Wounds reopen
I bleed and weep
Then breathe
Re-heal
Until the next time trauma,
catching me off guard,
catching me off guard,
Washes over me in
Shard-strewn waves.
Shard-strewn waves.
8 thoughts on "Shard-Strewn Waves"
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This is so true when trying to heal from trauma, like picking a scab. The last verse is just….boom. Thanks.
Yeah, Wendy, it keeps coming back, less frequently maybe, but just as strong. Thanks!
The layout on the page somehow feels perfect for this one, Alvera.
My favorite image, heavy with the feels here:
“And people I trust to fold sheets of truth into protective doves
Might origami them into slander swords instead.”
That layout was a surprising last-minute brainchild . <3 I played around with that origami idea for a while to try to get it right; glad it hit home.
The shape seems right–an inner bulge of surprising, sharp details followed by a return to the outer, surface edge (of the here and now)
Thanks, Rachel.
And people I trust to fold sheet….swords instead. Those entire 2 lines powerful and intriguing images to pair—folding sheets—origami. *****star poem!!!!
Thanks, Kim!